Star Wars: Republic Soldier
by Blade for Hire
Summary: See the Clone Wars through the eyes of a clone trooper, and what the war becomes. Follow the life of a soldier, veteran of the Clone Wars, and the decisions he is forced to make along the way. Complete. A/N: TBRS.
1. Chapter 1

Star Wars: Republic Soldier

There was a loud beep and a bright light, then he saw something. They were people of some kind, living beings with long skinny bodies and long necks covered in what looked like gray skin. One of them leaned forward, very close to him.

The creature spoke with a very even and smooth tone, "Hello little one. Welcome to your new beginnings. Your designation will be CT-01/319. You, with your brothers, will accomplish great things in your time."

He tried to move his arms, but got no response from them other than a slight twitch. He looked around with what movement of his neck he had to find he was encased in a liquid filled pod.

The long-necked creature spoke again, "We expect great things of you and your brothers, but now, rest. Later, we will begin your training."

The being touched a nearby panel. There was another beep and suddenly he felt very tired and wanted to sleep. The impulse was too strong to resist and he began to rest once again.


	2. Chapter 2

CT-01/319 sat at the table eating with the others of his batch. 19 was poking at his at the nutrient capsules a little bit, not really interested in eating at the time. He briefly gave a glance to his brethren and looked back down at his meal. There wasn't much to look at anyway. 19 looked exactly identical to 76 next to him who was identical to 34 next to him. 19 was a clone, just like all his brothers. They were all clones bred for a single purpose. They were bred for war. They were part of an army. Ever since they were birthed, they had been training for combat.

Up until he was four years old, 19 had been set down in front of a holo monitor being taught about different weapons, tactics, trooper armor, vehicles, all kinds of things that they would be working with in their army. At the age of five, his teachers started 19 and his brothers in on simulations of sorts. That was almost a year ago, and at first they were simply exercises with dismantling and reassembling powered down rifles, but very quickly they escalated to firing drills and target practice. Some of the most recent simulations involved targets that shoot back. 19 still had a bruise on his arm from taking a shot.

45 was recounting a mishap in one of their sims over the meal, "So it's me and the target, he's drawn a bead on me. I have six shots left, and, obviously, it's the firing range, there's nowhere to get cover, so I'm left with something of a dilemma. If I lash out with all the shots I have left, I've used all ammo and I fail the sim. So I get the best idea I can think of: fire after he does and hope I get him. Well, somewhere, my brain mixed up the signals and I took the shot. I fired three shots a split second before the target did and nailed it square in the center. But now I've got a stun blast coming at me and nothing to block it with, so I drop to the floor, flat on my face, and the shot misses me by a kilometer." 45 was being his usual egotistical self. Even though they were all clones of the same person, each one still had a reasonably individual personality, possibly from the gestational wetware training in the cloning pods.

19 had had enough of 45's self absorption long ago, but was getting tired of holding it in, "About how you've gotten most of your scores, 45. By accident."

45 put down his fork and looked at 19, "Well, excuse me if we can't _all_ be perfect soldiers, 19." 19 didn't have many friends among his clone brethren because he spent long hours studying, practicing, and prepping. The resulting extra work had made 19 a dead eye marksman, strong fighter, and brilliant tactician. This was the cause of much conflict between 19 and several members of his batch as well as other batches.

19 dropped his fork on his tray and stood, "Doing your best for a good cause isn't reason for strife, 45. Breaks up unit cohesion." He walked away, leaving 45 with his food and his thoughts. He deposited his tray at the return slot and left the dining hall for his quarters. On the way, he was joined by two Kaminoans, the long-necked, skinny inhabitants of the planet on which he currently lived. The taller of the two was Taun We, something of a secretary for the whole of the Tipoca City cloning facility.

She spoke with her graceful voice in a somewhat rehearsed tone, "319, I remind you that there is a strict schedule to be kept and you must stop leaving activities before the set end times.

19 had heard this many times before, "I'm well aware, ma'am. I'm simply not hungry right now."

Taun We sighed, "You also know then your lunch rations will be withheld and cannot be accessed later in the day. That's vital nourishment you've lost, 319."

"Once again, I'm aware, ma'am."

"Very well. Just be on time to the next activity." Taun We turned down another hall and left. The other Kaminoan stayed with him. This was Zalma Far. He had been working the Tipoca City labs for a long time and, for reasons unknown, had taken a shine to 19. He often hung around with him, offering little tidbits of advice from time to time.

19 made no effort to hide his problem, "How am I supposed to get along with everyone in my unit with stuck-ups like 45 in it?"

"No one's asking you to get along with him, 19." Zalma stated very bluntly, "We're just asking you to work with him."

19 snorted, "I'm not sure I can do that either."

Zalma grabbed the clone by his arm and stopped them both in the hallway, "Well you had better find a way to, soldier." Zalma Far only called 19 "soldier" when he really meant what he said and was trying to press a point.

He continued on, "I've always been very honest with you, 19, you know that, and I'm not going to stop now. You were designed to be expendable. Your whole purpose is to fight and die. 45 can be arrogant all he wants. When he reaches his first combat, that will more than likely change. If his personality doesn't recess with the combat training activating, then he might be killed. One way or another, you'll be rid of the parts of him you don't like."

19 never really wanted to accept that idea. He didn't like the idea of being expendable. In all practicality, the entire clone army was well-trained, well-armed, hard-to-kill cannon fodder. The only clones who weren't meant to fight and die were the commandoes, who were trained to be perfect killers. 19 just wasn't blessed enough to have been birthed as one of them. He was a trooper, a drone, more meat for the grinder. That was why 19 put in the extra hours he did. He determined long ago that, even though he was expendable, that didn't mean he had to be dispensable. He did his best to be the best at everything. One thing Zalma had told 19 was the instincts of cowardice and fear had been genetically spliced out of all the clones and replaced with a regulated focused aggression. 19 couldn't shirk combat literally to save his life. Combat was his life; it was bred into him. So to prolong his life, the best way to keep alive and be indispensable is to be better than the enemy and kill him before he kills you. As far as anyone knew, except among the commandoes, this was a unique mentality among the clones. Taun We and Lamma Su wished they could find whatever genes spurred it and duplicate them in the rest of the troops, but were sadly compelled to rely on the training programs for that. 19 had long ago determined in his mind that if he was going to be cannon fodder, he was going to be the hardest-to-kill cannon fodder he could be.

Zalma placed a hand on 19's shoulder. That wasn't hard, since the top of 19's head only came to the top of Zalma's skinny waist. All of the clones in the army were chronologically half their mental and physical ages due to the growth accelerators.

"Not everybody likes the roles they are put in, 19. Yours just tends to be the more thankless of them. But for those others who are in that role with you, you have to learn how to function with them, not agree, _function_ with them to accomplish that role to the best of your ability. Always remember that." The Kaminoan smiled, "I'll have your lunch capsules under your pillow for you tonight. Keep them out of sight, or I'm in trouble."

"You only do that if tomorrow's training is going to be especially hard."

Zalma smiled again, "I think you'll find it challenging and rewarding."

The PA system blared throughout the hall, "_Gamma unit, report to Briefing Chamber B12. Repeat: Gamma unit, report to Briefing Chamber B12_."

Zalma released 19's shoulder, "That's you. Better get going. You don't want to be late."

19 looked up at the Kaminoan and smiled, "Thank you, sir." With that comment, the clone turned down the hallway to his assigned activity.


	3. Chapter 3

19 stayed crouched behind the rock that was his cover. The platoon's objective was to take down a Commerce Guild Homing Spider Droid, a mammoth robot five times taller than he was, a large globe core suspended on four gangly legs and armed with a pair of tributary beams. Homing spiders' only weakness was they were designed as anti-vehicle units, so they couldn't target infantry as well as their smaller counterparts, but they were still dangerous. The textbook method to bring down a Homing Spider, because they were all but impervious to small arms fire, was to get in close and hit it with concussion grenades or hit it with rockets at range. That wouldn't have been too hard, but over the past two years, little foul ups were slipping in where least expected. The spider didn't know they were there, allowing the lieutenant, 76, to assess the situation. 19 was just waiting for something to go wrong.

19's comm buzzed from 76, "Third Squad, take position behind target…quietly. We want to keep the only advantage we have here."

Third Squad was 19's group. The squad leader was 45. He was hardly qualified as a squad leader, but his batch number was 245, so he made leader just by virtue of being birthed first. The combat didn't change his personality at all. He was still just as absorbed with himself as he had been four years ago, except now he had a squad of troopers to boost his ego.

45 raised his open hand in the air and pumped it down in a fist, "Third squad, form up. Follow my lead." 45 always took point, even though the second man always ended up making and often taking the first shots. The team formed up behind him and they made their way around the spider droid, dashing between rocks and rises to keep from being noticed. The droid was still completely oblivious to their presence, which had 19 worried. Those droids had some of the best short-range sensors on the market. Why wouldn't it know they were there? They reached their position and 45 signaled 76 that they were ready.

76's voice came over the comm in the clear, "Hit it with grenades on my signal." As he said that, the rest of the unit jumped out of their holes and tossed a volley of grenades at the target. The magnetic grenades attached themselves to the droid and detonated after a second of holding on. The spider droid rattled a little, but the only damage to show for their attack was some scoring on the armor plating. 19 readied a grenade and prepared to toss it when the droid inevitably counterattacked. They waited a minute, but the turrets never moved. Now 19 was really worried. Just as the clones were thinking they damaged an internal processor and killed it, the droid sank down on its legs, bringing the core came within a half meter of the ground. Over a dozen small panels on the lower exterior opened up and extended some armatures. Those armatures were carrying battle droids. The droids hit the ground and immediately unfolded and raised their weapons. The group split its fire, six firing at third squad, and nine at the rest of the unit. The spider droid also came to life as well, opening up with tributary beams on the clones. The first shots took several troopers by surprise, gunning them down and depleting their numbers. Without a second thought, 19 stowed the concussion grenade and pulled an ECD. The electromagnetic charge detonators played havoc with the droids electronics. He armed the grenade and tossed it toward the group of droids. The detonator went off on landing and shorted out three of the six droids attacking. 19 ducked down and pulled his DC-15 rifle off his back to start blasting mechanicals.

45 looked over at 19, "I didn't give you the order for that grenade, soldier."

"I didn't know I needed your permission to save our skins." 19 wheeled up and around and started firing at the battle droids. His three shot burst took a droid's head off and dropped it to the ground. He shot another in the chest, knocking it to the ground. That finished off the droids attacking third squad, but there was still the rest of them to deal with, and 19 was fresh out of ECDs. First, second, and fourth squads had some bloody awful cover and couldn't get clear of the homing spider.

That thought jarred 19's mind. The homing spider. If they could take that down, it might bring the battle droids with it. 19 stowed his rifle and readied that concussion grenade again. The spider's lower turret swiveled and gunned down 36 a few meters away. 19 dove toward him, shoulder-rolled as a beam sliced behind him, and came up running. He slid to a stop next to 36 and knelt down, quickly examining his wounds. There was a large burn on the left side of his armor. The wound would have cauterized itself, but the damage had been done. He dragged his wounded brother to the cover of some rock and hit his comm.

"19 to third squad, get to cover! Hide and don't move! Stay out of sight!" He followed his own command and hunkered down with 36.

The wounded clone tried to sit up, "What's hiding going to do? We need to attack that thing."

"Just trust me, 36." 19 looked at the others in his squad. Everyone else was down behind cover and awaiting orders. He then looked at the spider droid. The bottom turret swiveled around looking for them for a moment, then turned its attention to the rest of the troopers behind it. That was 19's chance. He held the grenade in a tight fist and took off running toward the droid. As he rapidly closed distance, he identified what looked like a maintenance panel, something that could be blown off. 19 approached the spider droid and jumped as high as he could, grabbing and hanging on one of the legs. He hung for a moment before pulling himself up and onto the core itself. He climbed around the exterior until he found one of the panels he identified. As he climbed around on the outside of the droid, the battle droids below started to shoot at him. When they opened fire on him, the homing spider thought they were shooting at it, and it gunned down a few of its own droids in response to a threat. 19 hung next to the panel and jammed the armed concussion grenade into one of the seams. He leaned away as the grenade went off and blasted the armored panel off the droid's body. 19 took his rifle from his back and fired a long burst into the hole he had just made to make it as deep as possible. After stowing his rifle again, he took his second concussion grenade from his belt, armed it, and jammed it as deep as his arm could reach into the hole. He released the grenade inside the spider droid and jumped down to the ground. 19 landed in a crouch just as the grenade went off and did some serious damage to the droid. It sank down on one side, dragging one of its legs. The droid was leaning now, but it was still firing, not quite dead.

19 looked back at his handiwork. _Still kicking, huh?_ He ran toward it again and pulled his rifle down. He shot at the joint were the lower turret met with the core. He saw sparks fly from the turret joint and knew he hit something important. He ran up to the turret and located were the firing mechanism should be. He reached his hand in, grabbed something that seemed vital, and began to wiggle it around. He fiddled until the turret fired. The tributary beam lanced out and snapped a droid clean in half. 19 aimed the turret up into the core and tweaked the firing unit again. He jammed the beam weapon up into the joint and wedged the firing unit so it continued the beam, then bolted away. The beam kept firing up into the droid's interior until it burst through the other side. The spider gyrated a bit before crashing down on top of the remaining battle droids and exploding very spectacularly. 19 turned around to admire his handiwork when everything around him began to fade into the large cube sim room they had started this mission in. Everyone was getting up from their cover positions and removing their helmets. 36 was standing up and brushing the carbon scoring from his armor.

28 pulled his helmet off, "These sims keep getting more and more realistic. I almost forgot we weren't really facing a spider droid."

36 removed his helmet as well, "The missions aren't real, but the pain sure is. Who's the wise guy who keeps putting these shockers under our armor?"

76 looked over to 36, "It's part of the training armor, 36. Your real armor doesn't have them." The "dead" soldiers were all getting up from the floor as well. When incapacitated in a simulation, the armor shockers deliver a constant stun pulse to the clone's nervous system to temporarily paralyze them and keep them out of action.

The door opened and the training briefer, a Kaminoan, came gracefully striding in, "Gamma unit, assemble in the briefing room in fifteen minutes." The entire unit cycled through the equipment room to remove their armor and weapons before gathering in the briefing room. The platoon was gathered in the amphitheater-like room talking about their recent simulator victory when two Kaminoans came to the lectern and got everyone's attention.

One that they recognized as the sim operator spoke first, "Gamma unit, you've all preformed very well. There were several of you that required some assistance. For those who gave that assistance, well done. Over all, the unit performed with ninety six percent efficiency. Nine KIAs reduced efficiency to ninety. All targets were destroyed, so that raised efficiency back up to ninety three percent. In total the unit performed superbly." The tall creature paused, "With me is someone you may recognize. I would like you all to give Prime Minister Lamma Su your undivided attention." He stepped aside and let the Prime Minister up.

As Lamma Su took the lectern, 76 stood up, "Attenhut!" The whole of Gamma unit stood to attention and saluted. Lamma Su took the podium and smiled, "Thank you. At ease." The clones all took their seats.

"I'm not here for a lengthy speech, so I'll be brief. I simply wanted to congratulate this unit on its fine work. Thus far, you are one of our best units in the training program. You are second only to Delta and Tau units, and are equal with Omicron, Rho, and Chi units. You leave all the rest behind. I should inform you that you are an inspiration to all your other brothers. Well done and keep up the impressive work. Thank you." The clones remained seated and silent as Lamma Su relinquished the lectern back to the trainer.

The trainer, too, was brief, "You are done for the day, Gamma unit. You also have a couple of hours before you need to be asleep. I suggest you use them wisely. Dismissed." The clones all stood, saluted, and filed out of the room. Once the platoon was gone, the two Kaminoans in the room were joined by two more, Taun We, Lamma Su's aid, and Zalma Far, one of the training techs.

The trainer sat down next to Lamma Su, "Truly, sir, what do you think of this unit?"

The Minister gave a Kaminoan approximation of a shrug, "I was completely honest in what I told them. They are one of the best in the program. I believe they will be quite valuable to the Republic."

The trainer shifted anxiously, "As I thought you would say. On that note of unit skill, there is one member of Gamma unit I would like to make mention of, being 319."

Lamma Su looked to his aid, "Call up his record, please."

"Checking. A moment…" Taun We was looking at her data pad, "CT-01/319. Trooper. 3rd Sector Army, 212th Infantry Attack Battalion, Gamma platoon, third squad. Notes from trainer for tactical excellence, superior marksmanship, stamina, and demonstration of leadership qualities."

Lamma Su nodded, "He sounds to me to be a superb unit. What might be the problem?"

The trainer leaned forward, "The problem would be what to do with him. He's simply too good to be kept where he is. He has repeatedly bested his squad leader and even his lieutenant. On multiple occasions he has shown great skill, prowess, and bravery. He is simply too good to remain a trooper under command."

Lamma Su nodded again, "So what would you suggest we do with him?"

"I'm not certain. We can't send him to the commandoes. Sergeant Vau would be _very_ displeased with a late arrival that needs complete retraining. We can't move him to a better unit this late in the training either. I'm open to suggestions." The room was silent for a long moment.

"You could promote him."

Lamma Su looked over in the voice's direction, "Could you expound on your solution, Zalma Far?"

Zalma was calmly standing near the wall, "I was thinking that you could promote him within his own unit, sir. Having the best leading the good would drive them on to be the best with him."

The trainer started looking at his own data pad, "That could disrupt my training program immensely. The clones would have to adjust to a new authority position, and that could be counter productive this late in the course. I advise against that course of action, sir."

Lamma Su looked back at Zalma, "Do you have a defense for your idea, Zalma Far?"

Zalma simply nodded, "Sir, if I may speak candidly, you and I have both seen several of their simulation recordings. 319 has repeatedly demonstrated leadership qualities. The clones respect him, rally to him, and often look to him for leadership. He seems to have leadership already, sir, just not on an official basis. With the unit following their training and taking orders from the lieutenant, that could be confusing within the unit and break up cohesion if the troopers begin to take sides. If nothing else, it will maintain unit cohesion."

The trainer looked at Zalma as well, "What if 319 proves unqualified for the position?"

"I have every confidence in 319's capabilities."

The Prime Minister was quiet for a moment, "The idea has merit. Promote 319 to lieutenant and see how Gamma performs. If he is not up to the task, we will have to address the matter when it arises." The Minister rose from his seat and glided out of the room with Taun We in his wake.

Zalma Far was on his way out when the trainer got his attention, "I do hope your suggestion works out. If it doesn't, this could prove disastrous to the unit's training schedule."

Zalma smiled, "As I said, I have full confidence in 319's abilities. I think you'll see what I mean."


	4. Chapter 4

19 was on his way to his room when he started thinking. 45 had once again tried to insert authority into a situation that demanded instinctive response. 19 just simply could not have waited for 45 to give him the order to throw the ECD, or the squad would have taken far greater casualties than it had. If it had been reality and not a sim, their lives would have been on the line, a waste of good infantry resources. 19 started thinking about ways he could either get around this problem or remove it. The main problem was simply that 45 was squad leader. He had to obey him. The only real course of action available was to inform the trainers about this problem and advise them on what to do. It wasn't much, but it was something.

As 19 thought to himself, he began to wander throughout the facility. He wasn't getting lost, just taking the long way back to his room. He came out of his reverie in the commando training sector. As he passed by locker room, he heard voices inside, no doubt several commandoes gearing down for the day. Out of innocent curiosity, he stopped and looked in. There were probably a dozen commandoes in the room, all removing armor and weapons from themselves. The commandoes were definitely something else from the troopers. They were all physically as big and muscular as 19, but just the way they moved was different. Every motion was very precise and coordinated. Their weapons and equipment were unique, as well. Instead of the DC-15 rifle the clone troopers used, the commandoes used the DC-17m, a more compact carbine with modular weapon components for blaster fire, anti-armor ordinance, and sniping. The commando armor was an entire different matter. The standard clone trooper used the Phase 1 armor, bland, white, ablative plasteel armor that gave maximum protective coverage for maximum agility at the same time. It wasn't fancy, and it could save your life; just don't sit down in it. The commando Katarn Armor was all that and a _whole_ lot more. The armor was compound multi-layered ablative with a built-in shield generator. That made for some impressive durability in combat. The armor was also equipped with a gauntlet-mounted vibroblade for melees. The troopers were just trained to use whatever was handy for melees, most often their rifles. The commandoes were the specialist of this army, men who feared nothing.

As 19 was leaning in the door, soaking in the feel of power from these solders, a commando in yellow highlighted armor walked up to him and removed his helmet, "Not often we get visitors over here. Who are you?"

One more thing that amazed 19 about these soldiers was their personalities. The troopers often developed their own personalities from the pod-based training before birth, but they all shared some of the basics like ideas, thought patterns, and accent. All the clones shared their accent with their DNA template, a bounty hunter named Jango Fett. These commandoes had such different personalities that they even had different accents from one another.

The commando talking to him had a straight accent with no inflections, "I'm 62. What's your number, bud?"

He swallowed hard before speaking, "19."

"19. I don't think I've seen you before. You must be a trooper, right?"

19 nodded, "Yes, I am."

62 nodded in return, "Kinda what I thought. We don't see many troopers over in this neck of the woods."

Another commando, this one in orange armor, walked up next to 62, "Who do we have here, Scorch?" This commando had the same accent as 19.

62, Scorch, looked at the other commando, "This is 19, sir. He's a trooper. Guess he was sightseeing and found his way over to our hole."

"Well, nice to meet you, 19. I'm 38, Delta squad leader. What unit you in?"

"Gamma unit, third squad."

Delta 38 nodded, "Gamma unit, huh? You know, you're something of a legend among the commandoes. It's been said that Gamma unit is so good, they're one step shy of being retrained into a set of commando squads."

19 scoffed lightly, "Well, I wouldn't say we're _that_ good. We just try to be our best at everything."

38 smiled, "Well, keep up the good work, soldier." As 38 was about to continue on, a commando in green highlighted armor, still wearing his helmet, stepped over.

"This is the commando sector, trooper. Move on."

38 shot him a stern look, "40, that's enough. Go gear down for the night."

"Yes, sir." The commando followed the order without question.

38 looked a little flustered, "You'll have to forgive my XO. Fixer tends to be a little _too_ regulations-minded at times. But in this case, I think he's right. It's getting to be your lights out, trooper. You'd best be getting a move on."

19 nodded firmly, "Yes, sir."

Before he left, 38 got his attention again, "Hey! If you're ever in the neighborhood again, look up Delta Squad. Hopefully, we'll be around."

19 smiled, "Thank you, sir." He left the room with a different outlook on the commandoes than he had before. They were trained to be the perfect killers, but they were still human underneath all that special armor and training. They weren't just wind-up-toy soldiers that the Republic was going to wind up and set loose. The commandoes were just as human as 19 was, maybe even more so. It also seemed 19 had some distant friends in the commandoes. 38 and 62 seemed to be good men and they appeared to like him. 19 was processing all these new thoughts in his head as he went down his dormitory hall to find his room. It had been an interesting day, and it appeared for once to have been interesting in a good way.


	5. Chapter 5

19 checked his suit to make sure it was clean as he exited the lift. It was 0600, and Gamma unit's day was just getting started. Right out of the chute, they had a training sim to get things warmed up. 19 just hoped it would start off well. He walked into the briefing room and found an available seat. He was later than he wanted to be because he took some extra time in the firing range to familiarize himself with the new sniper rifles. He wasn't trained as a marksman, but it helped to know how they worked just in case. All the rest of the unit was assembled in the briefing room already. Without a word, 19 took a seat near the front row. As the Kaminoan trainer came striding in, 76 stood to his feet, "Attenhut!" The whole unit rose and saluted.

The trainer barely acknowledged the salute, he was so used to it by now, "At ease." He took the podium, still looking at his datapad, "Gamma unit, there has been a change in your command structure. 176 is now unit sergeant and executive officer. Squad leaders remain the same unless otherwise specified. Your new lieutenant and platoon leader will be 319."

The room was stone silent. The whole unit of clones looked to 19 sitting on the bench. 19's heart skipped. _Did he say "platoon leader"?_ He didn't know how to handle this. They hadn't even seen real combat yet, and he was already getting a promotion. A big promotion, too. 19 knew all the facts and stats about how to command a unit, but he didn't have any experience with one. He was a trooper, not a commander.

The Kaminoan continued, "As of 0600 this morning, or until otherwise specified, 319 is promoted to the rank of lieutenant and is now Gamma platoon leader. You will take your orders from him. Are there any questions?"

45's hand went up, "Sir, what was the purpose in this change of command?"

The trainer shifted, "Let's just call it a matter of unit cohesion. Anything else?" The clones were silent, "Good. Now on to your day's schedule. To start the day, you have a training simulation. Your mission for this simulation will be to attack a group of enemy battle droids. Your primary disadvantage will be numbers. You are only thirty six troopers, and these droids will have you out numbered at least three or four to one. Your objective is simply to destroy all enemy targets. I will leave how you will accomplish that to your lieutenant. The simulation begins in ten minutes." On that note, the trainer walked out of the room.

Every head turned to 19. All these soldiers were under his command now. They were looking to him for what to do. What did the trainer say? The sim! That's it. They needed to prep for the sim in ten minutes.

19 stood up, "You heard him. You have ten minutes to cycle through that equipment room. Let's get to it!"

The whole of the unit followed without question. They cycled through the equipment room and set up with training rifles and armor in the sim room. Once they were all set up, 76 leaned closer to 19.

"Give a thumbs-up to the trainer in the ops room behind us." 19 turned his head around to the window behind and above them and gave a thumbs-up like 76 said. The trainer nodded and the window glass darkened to near opaque.

19 turned forward and leaned to 76, "Thanks. I'm going to need pointers like that for a while."

76 didn't budge, "You're unit lead now. I can give you tips and advice, but you have to make the decisions. I'm not always going to be there to help. I'll help you along for now, but I'm going to leave command decisions to you."

19 looked at him, "You're 2iC now. It's your job to give me advice, and the only thing that'll keep me from making you do that is if you're dead."

76 smiled behind his helmet, "Command mentality like that, you'll make a fine LT. Better than me, I'd bet."

19 was still trying to fully figure out what 76 said when the room darkened to near pitch black. A second later, it brightened again, but it didn't look like the sim room. The projection was an interesting planet. Trees and vines were strewn everywhere. The clearing Gamma unit was in was surrounded by thick foliage. 19 made a quick pan scan of the surrounding area. Their objective wasn't in visual proximity.

19 turned to 58, the comms and scanner tech, "58, Sensors, I want a look at the surrounding area before we go anywhere."

58, a clone with a sensor pack on his back, knelt down and consulted a data console on his armor gauntlet for several moments. The clones all stood uneasy, awaiting the final announcement.

58 looked up at 19, "It's hard to get a reading through the foliage. Give me a few more minutes."

19 nodded and looked around. The troops were all looking a little edgy, sort of fidgeting nervously.

He walked over to 76, "Everyone seems a little nervous."

76 looked around, "They need something to do while they wait. I suggest you have them deploy defensive."

19 looked around, and then back to 76, "I'll give the order, you see to the details."

76 shrugged, "That's my job, sir."

19 stood up straight, "Gamma unit, assume defensive formation!"

As everyone began to crouch into defensive positions, 76 stood up, "You heard Lead, soldiers! 26, 32, 80, cover eastern vector. 45, 89, 72, cover the…" 76 faded out as 19 looked around as the soldiers, _his_ soldiers, moved to follow his order. In a moment's time they were all defensively positioned to cover the clearing. Lead noticed that the troops didn't seem nervous anymore, assuming that it was because they were doing something, staying occupied. 76 returned to 19 after seeing to the formation.

"What they taught us in command courses is always keep your soldiers busy. You need to keep them doing things to ensure maximum efficiency."

19 nodded, "I never really recall much idle time when you were in command."

"Just remember some of the things I had you guys doing, keep us doing those, and everything should be good."

Lead nodded again, then looked over to 58, "You got anything yet?"

The clone didn't look away from his console, "Some faint readings bearing two seven three. I can't make much out, but it looks metal. Hard to tell if it's droids." Suddenly the sensor palette started beeping rapidly, "Scratch that. I've got a fix on some enemy droids at six clicks bearing two zero five. Looks like a decent number of them, too."

"Good work, 58. Pack it up." 19 looked to the rest of the unit, "Gamma unit, mobilize!"

76 looked around, as well, "You heard him! Move it out!"

As the unit pulled together into formation, 19 keyed his comm again, "Recon, take point." With that order, the recon troops broke formation and bolted ahead of the unit. The scout/snipers had enhanced visuals and communications in their helmets to allow them extended operational range from the rest of the unit, and sniper rifles for distance spotting and sighting. Perfect for scouting. The eight recon troops pushed ahead of the unit in their paired teams until they were almost out of sight. Gamma unit pushed forward for a few minutes, keeping a close eye on their surroundings. For all they knew, there was some new type of droid burrow into the ground and spring an attack from behind.

Several minutes into the forest, Lead keyed his comm again, "Recon, report. Any activity?"

"_Recon 1 here. Nothing so far._"

"_Recon 2. Except for 60 tripping over a gnasp carapace, nothing to report._"

"_Recon 3 reporting. No sign of the enemy so far._"

As they reported in, 19 started getting an uneasy feeling. He fell back in the formation to 58.

"How far is that group of droids?"

The clone consulted his data pad, "From our present position, I'd say four kilometers still."

Lead frowned behind his helmet, "Right. Carry on."

He moved to catch up with 76, "Is it just me, or is something out of place here?"

76 scoffed, "You're over reacting, Lead. It's normal with your first few sims in command. You'll get used to it."

19 shook his head, "76, listen, there's something not right here. You've heard the recon reports, haven't you?"

"Yes, and they all said the same thing. That there's no sign of droids."

"That's just it. There's _no_ sign of the droids. If they knew we were here, why wouldn't they be on top of us by now?"

76 looked at 19, "They may not have any enhanced sensory equipment. You don't know. That's the whole reason behind recon. It's not just for the nifty visuals, you know."

19 sighed, "I suppose your right."

"That reminds me. Once we're done here, you're going to need to stop by SupCent and get your armor replaced."

Lead looked at him funny, "Replaced? With what?"

76 looked funny back, "Lieutenant armor, of course. The blue armor I used to wear is actually different from trooper armor, not just in the color. You know why we have the different types, right?"

"Sure. Yellow is officer/pilot, orange is platoon command, green is technician, blue is heavy, red is scout/sniper, and white is trooper."

76 shook his head, "Wrong on all counts. You may notice that we don't have anyone with red or yellow armor here. Those are captain, major, and commander respectively. Everyone else has the drab white you see here. Now that you're unit lead, you need to get your armor to reflect that. If I keep the blue stuff, the unit will get confused when they look at me. That's why we both need a change of armor, to reflect the recent change in command to the unit."

19 nodded understandingly. He looked over to 58, "Sensors, what've you got?"

58 held up one finger as he consulted his arm console, "Droid group still bearing two zero five, range…eight hundred meters."

19 keyed his comm, "Recon, report. Have you made contact with the target yet?"

"_Recon 1 here. We've spotted droid activity. A good number of them. Laying low until the unit arrives._"

"_Team 2 here. We've made contact and, Lead, there's a bundle of them. Recommend we call in some heavy guns._"

"Noted." The rest of the recon reports all confirmed contact with the enemy droids. The unit closed distance, maintaining radio silence, and all took up positions around the group of droids. 19 took out some macrobinoculars to get a better look. There were a lot of them, all right. They were definitely out numbered, at least three to one. Those were some slim odds, but they were workable. He scanned the group, looking for anything that might be able to tip the odds in their favor. He panned across the clearing until he spotted something. There was a palette of fuel cells near the edge of the clearing. If the unit could blow those, that might take some of the droids with it, and if nothing else would disorient them for a surprise attack. He stowed the binoculars and slow crouched over to 76.

"Can we set grenades on a remote detonate setting?"

"Yeah," The clone nodded, "why would you want to?"

Lead pointed at the fuel cells, "To square the odds." 19 let him in on the plan. 76 nodded and moved into position. 19 looked to the droids while he waited. They were all your standard B1 model battle droid, a skinny and gangly humanoid body sporting a blaster rifle. It was unusual for this many droids to just be left out here without some kind of heavier support not too far away, but Sensors hadn't seen anything else. 19 looked over to 76. He was in position and waiting for the right moment. A patrolling droid passed by him and he made his move. 76 tossed a grenade into the middle of the fuel cells. The grenade rested in the midst of them, silently waiting for the order to go off.

76 returned to Lead, "Viola. Instant IED."

19 knelt and opened his squad channels one at a time, "First squad, you're with me. You shoot what I shoot. Second squad, move in on the west guard. Third squad, move in on the north guard. Fourth squad, reinforce third squad. All squad leaders acknowledge." One by one the squad leaders acknowledged their orders. Third squad's leader was a moment in coming. 45 seemed to have an axe to grind with the new unit ranking.

Lead took a moment to open the support channel, "This is Gamma 19 to gunship wing Epsilon. Have encountered multiple hostiles. Requesting fire support at our position."

The comm crackled in return, "_We'll be there in less than a minute, Gamma._"

They were ready to strike. All teams were in position. It couldn't get any better.

"Gamma unit, open fire! Repeat: open fire!" The whole of the unit jumped out of where they were hiding and opened fire on the droids. The mechanicals were taken completely off guard and many went down fast. 19 was blasted a mech and started thinking they wouldn't need his trap. As he was thinking that thought, nearly a dozen crates in the center of the clearing broke open to reveal a very scary sight. No fewer than twelve destroyer droids unfolded from the crates and came online. They opened fire on the clones and started causing serious havoc. Several troopers were taken down with the first barrage and they were steadily eating away at them. Gamma unit fired on the droidekas to no avail. Destroyers were legendary for their durability due to their shield generators. Lead could see they weren't going to be able to take them out with what they had.

He opened the support channel, "Gunship Epsilon, where's our bloody fire support?"

The comm came back scrambled, "_Gamma…have been intercepted…multiple bogies…cannot assist, repeat: cannot assist…_"

19 closed the comm and cursed under his breath. The gunships were out and the destroyers were slaughtering his troops. Things had just gone to the incinerator in a hurry. He had to think fast.

He opened his unit comm, "Gamma unit, fall back! Repeat: fall back at once!" He followed his own orders and retreated away from the hail of gunfire the droidekas were spewing. He fell back away from the fray, 76 closely in his wake, and rejoined the rest of the unit. A quick count revealed they'd lost almost one third of their ranks to those accursed destroyers.

He looked to 76, "Your grenade still live?" 76 nodded.

"Blow it. At least it'll slow them down." A second later, Lead was rewarded with hearing a massive explosion in the direction they just came from. 19 looked around and found 58 still among the living. He was knelt down in the brush, checking his equipment.

19 knelt down next to him, "Where's that big hunk of metal you found earlier?"

58 moved his arm away from his side to check his console, revealing a large blast mark on his armor, and no doubt some serious damage underneath.

Sensors sounded in his comm like he was speaking through gritted teeth, "Right where it was before, bearing three five one, three kilometers out, sir."

Lead nodded, "Gamma unit, we're heading north, bearing three five one. Whatever we find up there, hopefully we can use it for cover or something. Those droids are going to be hot on our tails, so we're going to have to move." The whole unit quick-timed it across the three clicks to whatever this mass of metal on the sensors was. Several of their number were wounded and slowed the others down. 19 looked around at what was left of his first command. _All of these clones are just like me, they're meant to be disposable. That doesn't mean they have to be dispensable as well_. A wounded trooper tripped over a root and fell. The others just looked at him and kept going.

Lead stopped by the wounded trooper and addressed the unit, "Someone help that soldier up! Is that how you'd want to be treated if you were in his position?" The remainder of the unit stopped and looked at him. 19 knelt down and helped the trooper to his feet, "Just because we're all designed as expendables doesn't mean we don't need every gun we can get. Your individual survival depends upon your team's survival." He put the trooper's arm around his shoulders and helped him keep going.

One of the troopers raised protest, "If we take time to help them, we may lose unit efficiency."

"I don't bloody care." 19 almost cut him off, "I don't know what the rule is for other platoons, but Gamma unit is my responsibility now, and as long as it is, I say no one gets left behind. We're all in this together, Gamma unit. If we all help each other and act as a team and a unit, we'll all get our job done _and_ get out of it alive."

The platoon resumed its pace, but with more determination. Some more of the wounded among them stumbled. Those around them looked at them for a moment pensively, then helped them to their feet and assisted them. 19 looked around and smiled. _At least something got through_. They finally came through the foliage to find the metal reading. 19 expected it to be a large rock or an ancient crash site or something. Finding the recent remains of an AT-TE took him a little by surprise.

Lead laid the wounded trooper against a tree and looked around for 76. He found him assisting Sensors getting his back pack off and walked over to him.

19 motioned his rifle to the AT-TE, "I want you and a couple of guys to get in that thing and see if it's operational. I don't care if it can be repaired; I just want to know if the guns are working." 76 nodded silently, pointed to two troopers to follow him, and hurried into the wreckage.

19 went over to 58 and knelt down to leaned on his rifle, "How you doing?"

The clone shrugged, "I'm managing. The armor shockers are just making it hard to concentrate."

Lead nodded, "Just remember, if this was real, that'd be actual damage to your body." He shifted over to the other knee, "How far behind us are the mechs?" 58 pushed a few buttons on the back pack and consulted his console. The display blinked twice then fizzled out. Sensors let out an angry grunt and banged his fist on the backpack once, causing the display came to life again.

19's eyebrows went up, "Not exactly the most orthodox repairs."

58 just looked at the console, "Gets the job done well enough for me." His arm display started blinking rapidly, "You're not going to like this, Lead. It looks like they stayed close with us. They're within a kilometer of our position and closing fast. They'll be on us in about ten minutes."

Lead's shoulders sunk, "Great. And we can't call in any gunship support either. All we have is the troops here, and hopefully the big guns."

58 nodded, "That about sums it up."

19 stood and keyed his comm, "76, report on the wreckage."

"_Hard to tell, sir. I'm no engineer, but I think this thing still has power. Not sure about the guns yet_."

"You have four minutes to find out. If you can't in that time, I'll fire _you_ out the main cannon." 19 closed his comm. So much for his first command. He'd already lost almost a third of his troops, and about a dozen destroyer droids were on their way up to finish the job. The _only_ thing that could sway these odds was the walker's guns. They were powerful enough to bring down starfighters, but if they couldn't get them online in time, it wouldn't do them much good.

His comm crackled on 76's freq, "_Lead, good news. The guns are working, but they don't have any power. It's going to take a few minutes to reroute so they can be fired_."

"We don't have much time, 76. You've got to hurry. I'm sending in all the engineers to help you." He moved to the rest of the healthy clones who had taken up defensive positions around the walker and ordered his engineers into the AT-TE to assist with the repairs. He looked around at the trees and foliage. Bushes wouldn't make very good cover. A blaster bolt could burn right through. All they had were some collapsed logs, trees, and a few rocks for cover, and those weren't much. Lead deployed the wounded troops to hide behind the logs and provide what fire they could. The remaining troops would bracket the wounded and use the trees and logs for their cover. He had the last ones deployed when the sound of droideka rolling came through the trees. There was only one, but that was enough to do some serious damage. The droid came into the open, unfolded, raised its shields, and started firing. Most of the clones stayed behind their cover, waiting for the AT-TE to kill it. Lead looked to two of his heavy troopers, held up two fingers, and pointed them at the destroyer. The two troopers readied their missile launchers and both fired on the droid. The first missile hit the shields hard. The second one collapsed them and jostled the droid. Lead and a few others came up and pulverized the vulnerable droid with blaster fire. The droideka went down only to be replaced by three more. The hail of gunfire was way too thick. Some troopers braved the fray to come up and fire, but to no avail against the shields. Only when they worked in tandem with the heavy troopers did they accomplish anything.

Lead keyed his comm to his 2iC, "76, how about those guns?"

"_Just another minute, sir_."

The three destroyers were joined by two more, "We don't have another minute, soldier." Someone threw an ECD over their cover. The grenade discharged right in front of the droidekas and instantly dropped their shields. Focused fire brought down two of them before their shields came back up. Those two were replaced by four more. The odds had gone from bad to insane very fast.

Lead screamed into his comm, "Trooper, we need those guns online _now_!"

"_Guns online! Stand clear!_"

19 turned to the rest of the unit, "Duck and cover!" The rest of the clones hit the deck just in time for the AT-TE to unleash a spread barrage of cannon fire on the droidekas. The barrage knocked down three of the droids easily. Each barrage was steadily followed by another and the destroyers fell as fast as they were replaced until they finally stopped coming. Lead came up around his cover to find no more destroyers, only a wide patch of black smoldering dirt.

Lead stood up slowly and addressed the unit, "Well done, everyone. Now we need to go back and get the rest." Before he could give any more orders, the forest faded away into the cubical sim room, and all incap soldiers started getting up.

He looked over at 76, "The grenade must've gotten the rest, considering it did blow up a palette of fifteen fuel cells." 19 removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow. Now he had something more dreadful to worry about: the debriefing. He'd botched the mission completely. He'd lost eleven soldiers out of thirty six, not to mention the wounded. He knew he was in for it. So much for platoon command.

They cycled through the equipment room and all arranged in the briefing room. The sim operator was a minute late coming up to the lectern.

He stood there for a long moment before looking up from his datapad, "Gamma unit, I want to be the first to congratulate you on actually surviving that simulation. That has proven to be one of the more difficult ones. Quite frankly, we use it to train new unit commanders in no-win situations and delaying actions. But you have some how managed to pull a successful mission out of this, most likely that strategic retreat after the destroyers appeared. The unit sustained eleven trooper casualties, lowering efficiency to eighty four percent. Unit assistance, with some encouragement from your new commander, raised efficiency up to ninety one percent. Mission completion raised efficiency to ninety nine percent, the only thing keeping you from one hundred being casualties. All in all, Gamma unit has officially out performed all the rest. I will submit my report to Prime Minister Lamma Su at once. You've all done fine work, and your lieutenant is to be congratulated. Your next activity is in one hour. You are dismissed." With that remark, he left the platform. Everyone stayed in their seats as though waiting for something. They all looked to 19, whose mouth was agape and his tongue doing impressions of a red carpet.

_Ninety nine percent. On my first mission in command!_ It took 76 nudging his arm to get Lead to come back to reality and dismiss the group. He walked down the hallway slowly, pondering what had just happened. He had just beaten and unbeatable simulation, on his first command no less. He came out of his reverie when he got to his room. He put his old armor into a carry bag and headed toward SupCent. The fastest way to get there was skirting the edge of the commando sector. He looked down the hall and saw four commandoes, each in full armor shy only the helmets they carried, coming toward him. The way they moved together was a sight to behold. The sounds of their footsteps were almost in unison. Most of the commandoes had bland white armor, but the four that approached him were colored orange, green, yellow, and red. From the speech 19 could hear, he recognized their distinct voices.

Lead stopped in the hall, "Delta squad. You guys just get off a sim?"

38 stopped near him, "Yeah, a nasty bugger of one, too. We had to bring down a pair of dwarf spider droids."

19's jaw nearly hit the floor, "Dwarf spiders? It took thirty six troopers to bring down one homing spider and only four commandoes can bring down two dwarves?"

62 shrugged, "That goes to show how different our training is from yours."

The commando in red piped up, "Training? You slapped three det packs on one of them. Training had nothing to do with it." This commando had a deep raspy voice.

38 looked back at the red commando, "I don't think you've met Sev yet. 19, this is 07, squad sniper."

07 shook Lead's hand, "Ain't nothing out there my rifle can't kill."

Scorch looked back at him, "Ah, stow the hokum, psycho."

"I could stow you in a small crate, wise guy."

"That's enough, you two." 38 looked back to 19, "If you'll kindly forgive their prenatal behavior." 38 shifted his weight, "By the way, congratulations on your promotion. Lieutenant is a big step up."

19's eyebrows rose, "How'd you know about that? I just found out this morning."

The commando smiled, "You'd be surprised how fast news travels among the commandoes. We gotta get going. We'll see you around." With that remark, the squad moved on down the corridor. 19 looked after them in awe. He had a feeling they'd be seeing a lot of each other. Lead continued on to the Supply Center, or SupCent, to get a set of lieutenant armor. He brought the pack containing his old armor to a desk with a Kaminoan behind it.

The tall being looked up from her console, "Can I help you, soldier?"

19 nodded, "Yes. I need my armor replaced." He put the pack on the counter.

The Kaminoan took out a couple pieces of armor, looked them over, and placed them on the counter, "It appears to be in good condition. May I ask why you need it replaced?"

"Promotion. Private to lieutenant."

"What is your designation?" she said, looking at her monitor.

"Gamma CT-01/319."

She ran her slender finger down the screen, "Gamma 319…Here. Yes, you had an order placed at 0530 today to have standard private armor replaced with lieutenant." She took the pack and old armor, "I'll take these. Please move to the conveyers to collect your new armor." 19 nodded and did as he was bidden. He grabbed a new carry pack for his new armor and collected each piece that was deposited from the conveyers. As the new armor came, Lead was noticing it was a hair thicker than his old armor. When the torso plate showed up, Lead saw it was noticeably thicker, and boasted four blue dots on the left pectoral.

A thought crossed Lead's mind. _I think I've officially become important_.

Next was fore arm gauntlets, which bore a blue stripe down the top, as did the bicep cuffs and shoulder bells. Last was the helmet. Lead took his new helmet from the conveyer and looked it over. The "T" shaped visor had an outline of blue around it that continued around back the helmet. He looked inside and noticed an expanded comm unit and an extra visuals module. He placed the helmet in the pack and left SupCent to head to his room again. He put the full armor on and cinched it up so it fit. Once he'd tightened it properly, he looked himself over in a mirror. He had to get used to seeing himself in blue armor. It was a good break from the orange jumpsuits they had, but that was just personal preference against the color orange. Somehow, the idea of being Gamma unit's new lieutenant just didn't quite want to sink in all the way. It was almost too good to be true, almost like a dream. 19 hoped he'd either wake up or fully realize it sooner or later. He removed his armor, stashed it in his locker, and donned his jumpsuit. After cleaning up the room some, he walked out the door and on the next activity.


	6. Chapter 6

19 walked down the row of troopers under his command. They were all seated in a gunship, awaiting the combat drop, and their first real mission. A week ago, Prime Minister Lamma Su announced to the entire clone army that their time had come and that those who were ready would be mobilizing. Now they were at their destination, an arid, desert planet called Geonosis, waiting for the signal. It had been ten full years since the clones of Gamma unit had been birthed into existence on Kamino, even though they were all biologically in their twenties. Over those years, they had all been constantly trained for combat. They were finally going to see if those years paid off. The whole of Gamma unit had been divided between two gunships for the drop. Lead was in one gunship, and his 2iC was overseeing the other. He had his comm set to the unit channel so those in the other gunship could hear him. He wasn't any more confident in his command capabilities than when he was first given the unit, but now he had two years of experience under his belt to call upon.

He spoke firmly and confidently, "Gamma unit, this is the moment we've all been waiting and training for. In just a few minutes, we are going into real combat for the first time. We are going to see if we've all been paying attention to our training. Get it in your heads now that this is real. It's not simulated anymore. You take a blaster bolt here, you will not be waking up from it. Let's be careful and watch each other's backs. The Republic has called upon us, and we will answer."

A metallic PA voice sounded throughout the compartment, "_Gunship Gamma, clear for launch. Prepare for drop in five_."

Lead silently counted off the five seconds as he took a seat and strapped in. Once he was secure, the ship shook, then dropped in the gravity. As they freefell into the atmosphere for several long moments, Lead rubbed his torso plate to feel for what was held underneath, making sure it was still there. Around Lead's neck, beneath his body glove, hung a Kaminoan charm of moment. The charm's other half, a charm of memory, sat on the head board of his bunk in the barracks. The two charms together formed a Kaminoan charm of fortune. Zalma Far had given the charm to 19 just before they left Kamino for Geonosis. The charms were both formed of a rare sea rock found only in the deepest part of Kamino's oceans, making them very valuable. Within the carefully carved and polished stones were small devices that gave them their particular roles. The charm of moment held a small holorecorder to takes stills with. The charm of memory contained a projector that displayed the stills in a slideshow-like manner. According to Kaminoan superstition, the charm of moment protected its wearer, but had a limited energy source and had to unite with the charm of memory to regain its power. It was the closest thing to a religion you could find on a scientific-minded world like Kamino. There were already holos of Lead's training in the charm of memory, fond memories he could look back upon in future years. The words that clung to Lead's mind were that Zalma Far called it "a hedge against the forgetfulness of time".

The gunship entered the planet's atmosphere and the side doors slid open. Lead unstrapped and leaned slightly out the door to look out, careful not to be caught by the wind. Beneath them, minor skirmishes were already breaking out over the desert landscapes. Places where Republic and Separatist forces had already engaged one another. They continued flying, part of a group of over a dozen other gunships and a several carryalls. As they flew, Lead looked in the direction they were headed to see a massive hive-like structure in the distance.

He keyed his comm to the pilots, "Pilot, what's that structure in the distance?"

The pilot's voice came back fuzzy, "_Geonosian arena. It's the target. We're moving in for an extraction._"

"Who are we extracting?"

"_A Jedi strike team inserted into Geonosis not long ago. They were here to rescue a few of their own. Scans show they've been ambushed and require aid._"

Lead banged his fist on the bulkhead next to him, "Fierfek! Why wasn't I briefed on this on the _Prosecutor_?"

The pilot sounded just as edgy, "_Because this is a mission redirect. You were supposed to be down there with everyone else. You would've been briefed en route anyway._"

Lead cursed under his breath and went back in the compartment and let his troops in on the situation. They didn't come out with any war whoops or battle cries. They all just simply acknowledged him with wrapped attention and a light nod. Lead went back to the door and waited. On the bright side, their maiden mission they were getting to work with Jedi. They were approaching their destination and fast. He looked at the ball turret just forward of the open door. The gunner was running a quick diagnostic on his weapon's targeting. The ball gunners were probably going to do all the work for this. The troopers would just need to help the Jedi in fast.

The holoprojector in the middle of the compartment floor came to life with a very important Jedi on the line, "_Trapped, the Jedi are, in the arena. To safety, we must bring them. Strike when we arrive, we will._"

Lead looked at the hologram as it vanished, "Was that who I think it was?" The rest of the unit nodded soberly. That cinched in Lead's mind just how important their mission was now. As they approached the arena and hovered, slowly descending inside, Lead could see just how bad this was. There was a group of about three dozen Jedi all gathered in the center of the arena, sabers lit and ready. They were surrounded by a good one or two hundred battle droids. Some of the droids were a configuration he'd never seen before, gray humanoid units with mounted weapons in their arms. The only non-Jedi in the friendly group pointed up at the gunships as they descended. Everyone and everything else looked with her. Now that their presence was known, there was no need in keeping it a secret. The ball turrets opened fire with tributary beams on anything that remotely looked like a battle droid. The wing turrets had also begun firing, making a total of four tributary beams to work with. The beams raked across enemy droid formations, reducing whole groups to piles of junk in moments. The gunships came within a meter of the ground and dropped some troops to cover the Jedi.

Lead tensed as their gunship came near the ground, "I want three men down there with me. The rest of you, help the Jedi in fast." Within a meter, he jumped down and landed in a crouch, firing at droids as fast as his rifle would cycle. Three others followed him. Four Jedi ran past him to the gunship. He ignored them and kept shooting at the droids as they came. It was an extremely target rich environment. They were everywhere. The only thing preventing him from acquiring a good thirty kills off the bat was reloading.

Once the Jedi were clear, the pilot open his comm, "_Hop in. We're pulling out._" Lead ordered his troops to get in. He was first into the gunship and helped the others in. 28 was withdrawing to the gunship when a group of six of the newer droids opened up on him, peppering his back with heavy blaster fire. His armor caved and he went down before he even knew he was dead, his body landing just shy of the door. 19 cursed silently and gave the pilot the all clear. Their first casualty. Lead reached down as the gunship began to ascend and grabbed 28's lifeless corpse. He wasn't going to leave him to rot on this Force forsaken rock. He would be given a proper burial. As Lead hefted his fallen brother into the compartment, he felt the weight of the body disappear, then float onto one of the med gurneys on its own. He looked back in the ship to one of the Jedi.

The Jedi gave the clone an understanding nod, "I know what it is like to leave a comrade behind." The Jedi, an Iktotchi, moved closer to Lead, "I am assuming command of this unit. What is your designation?"

Lead was more than willing to relinquish command over to a Jedi, the greatest warriors in the Republic, "We're Gamma unit. I'm Gamma 19, LT. With whom do we have the honor of serving?"

The Jedi graced the clone with a minor bow, "I am Saesee Tiin of the Jedi Council. I will do everything within my power to preserve the lives of your men."

"You don't have to do that. We're just clones. We can handle ourselves well enough."

The Jedi shook his head, "But there is still a finite number of you, as I evidence with the body of your fallen comrade. The Republic will need its soldiers."

28's loss hit Lead like a shockwave. The Jedi was right. There was a finite number of them. Thirty six was now thirty five, with no sim reset button. He needed to listen to his own advice about this all being real. They couldn't get these soldiers replaced in the middle of a mission once they were killed. That was incentive enough to try to keep his pod brothers alive.

Lead nodded to the Jedi, "Then we would greatly appreciate your efforts, Master Tiin."

"I will take full command once we've landed at our destination. Have the men be ready for a fast drop."

Lead nodded and opened his comm to his 2iC, "Deuce, come back."

There was some mild interference, but 76's voice was clear enough, "_Deuce here. Go ahead, Lead_."

"How did your group fair with the extract?"

"_Everyone's all right and we have three healthy Jedi and an armed senator on board. How'd you guys do?_"

Lead grimaced, "Not as good. We got three of the Jedi, but…Deuce, we lost 28. He's gone."

"_Frelling mechs! You recovered his body?_"

Lead nodded and looked over to where the med droid was looking over 28's body, "Yeah, we got him. The medics will stitch him up for burial."

"_I think we need to arrange some payback for that._"

"I agree. We'll figure that out once we're groundside. I've got a Jedi here who's in charge once we land. Lead out." He closed his comm and went to the door to see what was going on. The gunship was maneuvering evasively now, swaying everything inside from side to side, which piqued Lead's attention. The gunships were avoiding enemy ground fire while they made their way to a forward drop point. A couple of assault ships had set down and were deploying troops en masse, but establishing a forward deployment zone would make things a little easier.

Lead knelt down in the door and opened his unit channel, "Listen up, Gammas. We are going in with the first wave. That means the LZ's going to be really hot when we get there. Jedi's in charge once we land. Lead out." The gunships closed on the target area. It was a large span of desert in front of several Techno Union transport ships. The transports were guarded by several hundred droids of all types. Homing spiders, dwarf spiders, Hailfires, battle droids, all kinds of mechanicals all looking to get a piece of the Republic's new Army. The turrets shredded a couple of small groups in one area and started setting down to deploy their troops. Gamma unit's gunships hit the ground firing.

Master Tiin was the first out, "Move out, soldiers!" He jumped to the ground and ignited his green lightsaber.

Lead was second out of the gunship, "You heard him, Gammas. The Jedi has command. Regroup at my position." He sighted a droid and fired, clipping its head off cleanly. He sighted another droid only to see it snapped in half by the Jedi's blade. Lead looked around to find the whole of Gamma unit collected around him, firing at anything that looked robotic.

Lead looked to the Jedi, "We're under your command, Master Tiin. What are your orders?"

The Jedi bounced away several blaster bolts with his lightsaber, then looked at Lead, "We're going to push through those droids. We'll be advancing with the forward line."

Lead nodded and looked to the rest of the unit, "You heard the Jedi, Gammas. Blast anything that isn't Republic. Let's move!" They began to press forward, Master Tiin in front deflecting shots, shooting at any droids they encountered. They pressed at a steady pace until a group of the new battle droids started raining some heavy fire on them. A couple more clones went down in the process and Lead clenched his teeth. The only way he was going to let the Separatists take away his command piece by piece like this would be to pry it from his cold dead fingers. The droids were becoming a problem until something unusual happened. Master Tiin leaped eight meters into the air toward the droids, hostile blaster fire flying past him harmlessly as he sailed through the air at them. When he landed, the Jedi kicked down one droid, ran his blade through two more, spun to evade a three shot burst from another before bringing his lightsaber up to split it in half, and finished his graceful maneuver with a downward stab into the first one. Lead stared in amazement. The Jedi had single-handedly dispatched four enemy droids in less than two seconds. Another half dozen were getting into position to fire when Master Tiin pushed his hand toward them. Lead felt more than heard a rumble through the air and the droids were all knocked to the ground as though pushed over. To finish out the show, the Jedi master threw his lightsaber toward a destroyer droid. The green blade flew to its target with a perfect spin, sliced the droideka in two, and swung around to return to its wielder's hand. Lead went completely slack jawed. Never had he seen a fighter so quick and efficient in dealing with enemy forces. The Jedi had earned the title of the greatest warriors in the Republic. Lead came to his senses in time to blast a droid that was coming up behind the Jedi. Lead's shots took the droid in the chest, knocking it down where it exploded. The Jedi master looked at the dead droid, then up to Lead.

He gave him a quick nod, "You have my thanks."

Lead waved it away, "There'll be time for that later. Right now, we have Separatists to deal with."

The Jedi Master looked toward the sky, "I'm afraid you'll have to deal with these now. I'm needed elsewhere. I thank you for your assistance." Without another word, Master Tiin doused his lightsaber and took off running back toward a landing area.

Lead turned away and fired at one of the new droids. It took his shots squarely in the chest and doubled over. Lead expected the droid to drop from the damage, but it stood back up, revealing three score marks on its chest, and kept coming. The mech presented its right arm and brought to bear a pair of blasters, firing erratically. Lead quickly snapped off another three shot burst. The droid took the full brunt but kept coming. He set his rifle to full auto and opened up on the droid. The droid took every shot as it came closer, bucking under the fire. Finally, after emptying almost a third of his clip, the droid went to its knees and fell. Lead closed the distance, keeping this new threat in his sights. He looked down at the hunk of metal and kicked it lightly. Assured that it was dead, Lead keyed his comm to Sensors.

"58, come to my position. There's something I want you to look at."

There was some static from the action over the comm, "_Be right there, Lead._" Within a few moments, Sensors was coming up to Lead, blasting mechanicals as he went.

He lowered his rifle and looked to 19, "What do you need, sir?"

Lead looked at the droid carcass, "What do you make of this?"

58 knelt down and began tinkering with the droid, "Molecularly enhanced casing, internalized comms package, enlarged power cell, enhanced logic circuits, strengthened joints and frame…"

Lead cut off his litany of upgrades, "What are we dealing with here, Sensors?"

The clone looked up at him, "It looks like we got some kind of super battle droid here, sir." He motioned to some of the parts as he spoke, "It has a strengthened frame to greatly increase durability, an enhanced logic circuit to increase its adaptability and independence, among other things. Basically, we're looking at the good parts of a droideka and a battle droid rolled into one. Probably expensive to build, but worth the cost."

Lead nodded, "Well, it's our job to turn them into expensive scrap piles." He opened his unit comm, "Gamma unit, regroup at my position." The unit collected at Lead's position and they began advancing again. They continued on for a long time, shooting at droids, blowing apart vehicles, watching brothers fall. Lead looked over his shoulder once and saw a massive blue beam ignite from an artillery battery and carve into a droid control sphere that was trying to escape. The one beam was joined by several others and they continued hitting the ship hard. After a several shots, the ship started to fall. It came down and landed with a deafening crash and the shockwave kicked up a sandstorm of dust.

Lead looked at the wave of dust charging at them and opened his unit comm, "Gamma unit, brace yourselves!" Lead braced as the wave overtook them. He could feel thousands of tiny impacts as the sand bounced off his armor. After a moment, the wind settled, leaving a thick fog of dust in the air.

"Visors on, Gammas. Let's use this fog to our advantage." Lead followed his own order and tapped a button on the side of his helmet. His vision went monochrome and a little fuzzy, but all the droids within fifteen meters of him were outlined in white. This mode also doubled as their night vision in the dark. He could see them, but they couldn't see him. Lead continued firing at any droids he could see. After a few more minutes, Lead saw a set of tributary beams carve up a homing spider and its companion dwarf spiders. He looked to the source and saw a flight of gunships making a firing run, hitting all enemy units with blaster fire, rockets, and tributary beams. They flew over firing, not leaving much in their wake, with several following flights cleaning up what they missed.

After several long hours of battle, Lead's command channel opened, "_This is Alpha 01/224 to all Republic forces. The enemy is in full retreat and the Techno Union ships have been destroyed. Rendezvous with your gunship transports for extract. Mission accomplished_." The whole of Gamma unit let out a cheer of joy. They had won their first battle. Lead simply took a deep breath and knelt down to catch his breath.

76 walked up next to him, "I bet the Republic's mighty thankful they pulled us when they did. Those few Jedi wouldn't have won here."

Lead just shook his head, "Win? I wouldn't use that word just yet."

76 looked around, "Why not? We beat them, didn't we?"

19 nodded, "This battle, maybe. But a lot of enemy resources made it out. I think we're just getting started." He turned around and looked at his 2iC, "Got a casualty list yet?"

Deuce nodded soberly and handed him a datapad. The casualties were tallied by the transmitters in the clones' helmets. The transmitter sent out a signal when it detected its wearer's vital signs change to indicate a wound or death. Lead looked over the casualties for Gamma unit. In their first engagement, they had four wounded and three dead. He went down the list of designators. 28, the first to go; 06, a decent recon soldier; 74, one of the heavy weapons soldiers wounded; 45…

Lead saw the designator for 45 in the list of casualties and paused. Next to his number was "KIA". 19's mind instantly flashed back to his and Zalma's conversation six years ago. _If his personality doesn't recess with the combat training activating, then he might get killed. If it comes to that, one way or another, you'll be rid of the parts of him you don't like._ Now that it had come to this, Lead wasn't so happy for it. 45 may have been a stuck-up, know-it-all egotist, but he was still a soldier and still a hand at the gun. It shouldn't have come to this. 19 didn't always get along with everyone in his unit, but they were his soldiers, his responsibility. He felt as though there was something he could have done to prevent this.

Lead looked at 45's designator and noticed the words "rear guard action" next to the KIA. Lead raised an eyebrow. Rear guard actions were dangerous, risky, and often suicidal, not a task 45 would have taken willingly. There was an attached visual sensor log to the marker. The Republic had little camera droids hovering all over the battlefield recording this first engagement for posterity, and apparently one caught some footage of 45. Lead activated the log and watched, hoping it would lead to some answers. The log started out with 45 and third squad leading a retreat, typical. The Republic forces were getting pounded and had to regroup to press on. Lead could tell that this retreat would only lead to the group's demise, when he saw something that caught his interest. He saw 45 stop running and turn around to look at the droids. He then called third squad to his position and addressed them with their task.

"_Listen up, squad. Our forces have to regroup, but those droids are tearing us apart. Our brothers are going to get slaughtered if we don't do something. We will not flee in the face of this threat any longer. We will not die with our faces to the ground. We will stand firm, and if we die, we will die standing._" The squad stood their ground and attacked the advancing droids. The log faded to static.

Lead thought to himself. _I guess that personality of his did recess with combat_.

76 noticed his leader's behavior, "You alright, sir?"

Lead came out of his reverie and formed a thought. _What's done is done. I can't change that now. 45 was an egotist, but became a good soldier, and now I regret losing him. But he didn't die with his face to the ground. He died standing._

"Sir?"

Lead looked to Deuce, "Just fine. Have everyone load into the gunships. We're pulling out of here."


	7. Chapter 7

Lead was patrolling the hallways on his fifth guard duty in a row. The _Prosecutor_ was an Acclamator class Republic assault ship. These ships were capable of carrying numerous garrisons of troops and hundreds of vehicles and gunships. Gamma unit had been operating out of the _Prosecutor_ as their first and thus far only home and baseop for about a year since Geonosis. Whatever the _Prosecutor_ was called to, Gamma unit and the rest of the troops aboard were the ship garrison that handled the ground work. During that year, Lead had earned a scar across his right eye. It had served as an identifying mark everywhere he went, since everyone knew Gamma 19 as the LT with the scar. The _Prosecutor_'s most recent assignment was a simple patrol in the Corellia sector, nothing fancy. The ship was supposed to be defending Republic trade routes against Separatist activity, but hadn't seen any combat in couple of weeks, and the Gammas were starting to get a little fidgety for some action.

Lead's patrol brought him by a communications console, so he took some time to dial up the ship resources officer. His face came on the screen and Lead again was taken aback that he wasn't looking at yet another carbon copy of himself. They'd been stationed on the _Prosecutor_ for a little over a year now and Lead still hadn't gotten used to the fact that the command staff was natural-born. The officer had sandy colored hair, brown eyes, and a somewhat rounded face.

"Resources." Yet again, Lead was surprised by his lack of accent. Lead and all the other clone troopers were branded with the same Concord Dawn inflection as their DNA template.

"This is Gamma 319. You got a minute, sir?"

The officer nodded, "Sure. What is it?"

Lead leaned against the console, "I was just wondering why I've pulled patrol duty for the fifth time in a row this week. I put my minimum requirement of three in two days ago, and I have things to do other than stand in the halls and look threatening."

The man went to work on his consoles out of the monitor's view. He typed for a minute before speaking again.

"I don't really see a problem…" he trailed off while looking at a screen, "Hold on a sec. I have you down here for two patrols at opposite ends of the ship at the exact same time. Give me a second." He typed some more and looked at his monitor, "Ah. Here. The other one is supposed to be Tau 419. The system's only reading the last two numbers. I've got you down for patrols for a bunch of the wrong patrols. I'll remove the filters so the system will read the whole designator from now on." He looked back at Lead, "You want me to call your replacement or do you want to stay for the rest of the beat?"

Lead scoffed, "Call the other guy, if it's not too much trouble. I've got things to do today."

The officer looked to his monitor, "The summons is sent. Just wait where you are. He'll be there in a few minutes."

"Roger that. Gamma 319 out." Lead waited for about five minutes before Tau 19 showed up. He turned over the beat and started heading to the bridge. One of the things on Lead's "to do" list now that he had some time was to go and check up on Sensors. The bridge sensor officer openly admitted that 58 was better at working the sensor boards, so he had been pulling him from his patrol shifts to have him on bridge work. Over the last four days, 58 had been talking about some kind of strange reading on the sensors. He said sometimes it was there, sometimes it wasn't, just kind of fading in and out every now and then. What puzzled Sensors the most was the timing. It showed up at the same interval throughout the day, always at 1630 hours. 58 had run diagnostics on the sensor boards, but they all came up saying the sensors were in working order. It was 1615, and Lead wanted to go up to the bridge to see this anomaly for himself.

On the way to the bridge, Lead heard some commotion in the barracks along the way. As a lieutenant, he had a right to know what was going on in there. He looked in and found two off-duty troopers in a tussle. One of the troopers was Gamma 93, also known as "Snipes" because he was the unit's best marksman, the replacement for 28 a year ago. What made matters worse, the other soldiers in the barracks were cheering them on! Lead leaned his rifle against the wall and stormed up into the middle of the brawl. He grabbed each clone at the scruff of their uniforms and yanked them apart. The two had a tight grip on each other, but slid apart easily enough with added force. Both men stood apart from each other panting heavily with Lead between them.

Lead made sure to be to the point, "What is the trouble here?"

The guy in the blue jumpsuit spoke up first, "This Gamma boy here was mouthing off to me, saying the Kappas aren't as good."

Lead looked to his man, "Is that true?"

93 didn't look away, "Not true, sir. I stated the simple fact that our unit was one of the better ones with no intention of arrogance, and he jumped me."

Lead released 93 and pointed for him to stand by the door and wait. He then pulled the Kappa in close so he could hear.

Lead pulled in close enough so the trooper could see through his visor, "I'd be careful how you refer to a 'Gamma boy' when speaking to their LT, trooper. And by the way, Lamma Su himself complimented us during our training and said we were one of the best in the program. I'd be showing some respect if I were you."

The Kappas's eyes widened when he saw the scar and recognized who he was, "Yes, sir."

Lead nodded, then looked to his men in the room, "Gammas, come with me." He barked out harshly. He led them to the door and removed his helmet to address them.

"What in the name of the Force did you bleedin' idiots think you were doing, cheering on a fight in the barracks? Anyone care to explain this?" The Gammas were silent at Lead's chiding, "From now on, if I catch any member of Gamma unit involved in a fight in any way, even if you're just watching it, I'll have you confined to barracks for a month. If you're going to be involved in fights, you'll be breaking them up. I know we all want to take some to the Seps, but don't take it to our brothers while you're waiting. Is that clear to everyone?" The whole group acknowledged him.

Lead nodded in return, "Good. Now clean up this mess and have it looking like it was never here. Get to it." Lead donned his helmet and grabbed his rifle as he resumed his course toward the bridge. He boarded the bridge lift and rode it to its destination. He stepped out onto the bridge of the _Prosecutor_, a widely expansive room with a high window all around the upper half with a wide catwalk to match. The ship's captain, Capt. Martz, was slowly pacing the walkway between the two crew pits. Lead walked up to the walkway and saluted to attention. The captain had his back turned at the time and took a moment to notice him. When Capt. Martz turned at the far end of the walkway, he noticed Lead and strode quickly over to him.

He returned the trooper's salute, "At ease, lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

19 took a parade rest stance, "Captain, requesting permission to check on one of my troopers on the bridge, sir."

The captain shook his head, "You must be Gamma unit lead. You don't need to ask permission if he's one of your troopers, lieutenant. Your boy is right over there at the sensor station. You can check up on him any time you want."

Lead nodded, "Thank you, sir." The captain nodded and resumed his pacing. Lead made his way over to 58. He leaned on the back of the chair and looked over Sensor's shoulder.

58 looked around with a start, "Didn't expect to see you up here."

"I wanted to see this anomalous sensor reading for myself. You seen it yet today?"

58 shook his head and lifted his helmet to scratch his face. While on duty, all clone personnel were required to be in full armor, not exactly comfortable when confined to a chair for hours on end.

"Haven't seen it yet. It's not due to start showing up for another two minutes. In the meantime, I have figured some things out about the reading itself."

Lead knelt down next to the station, "What've you got?"

Sensors pushed a few buttons on a nearby panel and a small screen displayed the data he referred to, "Well, the reading isn't really a contact. There's very little sensory information coming back, so whatever it is, the sensors can't see it. I've analyzed the oscillation of the reading and found it's not constant. It's something of a burst or pulse." The screen displayed an oscilloscope line that jittered every few seconds, "And it's the same strength each pulse, very consistent. The average strength is within eleven micro hertz every time."

Lead nodded, "So what're your conclusions with the data you have?"

58 shook his head again, "I'm not sure, sir, but the data is almost consistent with communications equipment. And whatever is communicating, it's going wherever we go. If I didn't know better, I'd say the _Prosecutor_ is being followed." Just as the words were out of his mouth, the sensor screen showed a light blip flicker off away from the ship. 58's head snapped over and he stared at it, waiting for another.

"There." He pointed to the flicker, "There it is again. Same strength as before and the sensory return is so small it barely registers."

An idea came to 19's mind, "If you have the general bearing, why don't you try focusing a sensor band over in that area to see if you can't get some more return out of it?"

58 just stared straight ahead for a second, "Now why didn't I think of that?" Lead chuckled lightly as Sensors started working on several consoles and monitors. 58 had a tendency to get so carried away with one portion of a task that he sometimes forgot about other aspects of that task. He was so focused on figuring out the sensory return information he had that he forgot he could give it a detailed scan. He set some switches and buttons on various panels and studied the monitor again. The screen narrowed to that area and the flicker became a little more constant, but still barely there. 58 slowly twisted a knob to narrow the band and clear up the return. Slowly the reading began to take shape. It flickered again and shed a lot of light on what it was.

58 removed his helmet to see the image better, "Captain, I think you want to come see this."

Within moments, Capt. Martz was leaning over the chair, "What do you have, soldier?" Capt. Martz was loose enough with regs that he didn't mind Sensors removing his helmet to see the screen.

"I've got a better read on that contact I told you about. Just wait a sec…There." The flicker revealed what the source of the contact was. It was a smallish ship of alien design, hard to tell with the low rez.

Martz's face hardened, "That's a ship. It's been following us for the last four days. Well done, trooper." The captain stood straight, "Shields up. Sound general quarters. All personnel to battle stations. Target contact bearing…" he trailed off as he consulted the monitor, "one seven three mark four. Bring us about and make ready weapons."

With the captain's orders, the alert sounded off and the bridge was bathed in red siren light. As everyone went to their assignments, Lead realized that he was now stuck on the bridge. With sounding the alert, the bridge sealed automatically to keep intruders out.

Lead got Martz's attention, "Sir, my battle station is down below in the barracks."

The captain nodded grimly, "I understand, lieutenant, but you'll have to wait. We're all a little busy right now." The ship began a slow graceful turn to starboard.

As the ship turned, Sensors spoke up again, "Sir, communications activity is becoming constant. They're trying to pull in behind us to stay hidden. We'll have to shake them loose before we can engage."

Martz looked at the weapons station, "Weapons are online?" The officer in the pit gave him a stiff nod.

He looked to Sensors, "Narrow the sensor band on them and give it full power. Let them know we can see them."

Sensors did as he was bidden and suddenly the ship rocked lightly, "Done, sir. They've dropped their cover. I have full sensory return on the ship. Guess they think they don't need to hide now that their cover's blown. They've opening fire on our stern."

Martz looked to the gunners, "Aft batteries, open fire." There was a rumble through the deck as the aft turbolaser batteries opened fire simultaneously. Lead looked at the sensor feed and watched the ship fly out ahead of them to get away from the guns. He bolted up the ramp to a window on the upper level of the bridge. The ship flew past, and Lead still couldn't recognize it. It had almost a reptilian look to it. Lead ran back down to the main level and next to Sensors again.

He leaned heavily on the chair, "What kind of ship is that?"

Sensors was keeping a close eye on them, "Trandoshan dropship. Although what they're doing way out here following us, I have no idea." The sensor contact did something and 58 leaned closer, "Captain, you need to see this."

Capt. Martz leaned in next to Sensors, "What're they up to now?" The Trandoshan ship had changed configuration slightly and was now heading toward the _Prosecutor_.

Martz's brow furrowed, "They're trying to board us. Over my dead body, they'll take this ship." He looked over to the ship systems officer, "Unseal the bridge."

He then looked to Lead, "lieutenant, you're the best I've got. Get you and you're troops ready to deploy at a moment's notice. If we can't keep them out of the docking bays, I'll give you the number where they're landing. Deploy there and repel the intruders."

Lead nodded, "Consider it done, sir." He ran through the bridge door and entered the lift to get to his barracks, silently cursing it for being so slow. As he ran into the barracks, he saw all of his men in full battle armor, ready and rarin' for a fight.

He made sure to be brief, "Gammas, we've got potential boarders. If the captain can't keep them away from the ship, it'll be our job to clean house. Be ready." The Gammas acknowledged him with a simultaneous "Yes, sir." No sooner had the platoon received their crash course briefing did the PA system blare with the captain's voice.

"_Attention, all combat personnel, we have intruders entering hanger A. Repeat: Intruders entering hanger A. Proceed to hanger and repel the invaders._"

Lead looked to his men, "You heard the man. Let's move!" Deuce stood up from his bunk and started hollering for the men to get moving. The Gammas scrambled out of the barracks with Lead in front. They moved through the corridors down to hanger A, skipping the lifts and taking ramps and stairs because they could move faster as a group.

They were about halfway to the hanger when the sensor tech spoke up, "Sir, I just got a strange reading…from inside the wall."

Lead stopped in his tracks, stopping the whole unit, and looked back at the tech, "From where?"

He shrugged, "Just what I said, it's coming from inside the wall." That put Lead fully on alert. The last thing they needed while defending from a boarding operation was to have strange sensor readings throughout the ship misleading them from their objective.

Lead held up his fist, signaling the unit to hold position, "Rifles up." The whole unit shouldered their weapons. Lead had a bad feeling about this strange sensor reading.

The sensor tech spoke up again, "The reading's getting closer, sir." Lead started looking around the corridor. There were no doors for a good several meters, just some maintenance panels and vents.

"It's right on top of us." Lead looked all around the corridor. There wasn't anything in sight.

A vent cover popped off the shaft it covered above them. Everyone brought rifles to bear on whatever would come out. They were expecting a Trandoshan to slide out and attack and were taken very off guard when a little droid eye telescoped out of the shaft. It looked at the Gammas and retreated back into the shaft, quickly followed by the droid's main body coming out. The droid was shaped like a large bug, almost a meter long, somewhat flat and wider at the front coming to a point at the back end. The droid hovered in the air for several moments while the Gammas all looked at it in confusion. Suddenly the droid leaped into action, crossing the three meter distance between them in less than a second and grabbing hold of 86 with about a dozen armatures. The clone started to squirm and writhe and grab at the droid, but he couldn't reach it on his back.

"Get it off! Get it off! Ah!" the trooper screamed as he struggled. Lead grabbed at the droid and started to pull. It had a solid grip on 86 and wasn't too inclined to let go. As Lead and a few others pulled, there was a high pitched whirring sound from the droid. 86 screamed and they yanked it free. Lead swung the droid across the hall as 86 fell to the floor. The droid hit the wall and hovered for a second, then realigned itself with the Gammas. This time it was facing down the Gamma's blaster rifles. A dozen rifles blew the droid to a dozen pieces.

Lead lowered his rifle and looked to 86, "You all right." The response was silence and the soldier wasn't moving. Lead knelt down next to him and rolled him onto his back. There was a drill hole through the center of his visor with blood leaking out of it. Lead pulled 86's helmet off to find the hole extended beyond into his head, right between his eyes. The frelling droid had drilled right into his brain. Anger boiled in Lead's chest to the point where he pulled his pistol from his hip and shot the droid's wreckage three more times.

He stood and opened his command channel, "Gamma Lead to bridge. Advise all combat teams to watch out for small attack droids. They can fit in the vents and maintenance shafts and attack by grabbing you and drilling through your face. Repeat: advise all combat teams to watch out. Please respond."

The bridge came back a little fuzzier than usual, "_We've already received several similar reports. It seems the Trandoshans released these droids into the vents as soon as they landed. All teams will be advised. Proceed to the objective._"

"Roger that. Gamma out." The platoon started on the move again toward hanger A, this time at a more cautious pace to watch out for more droids. They were still several sections away when they made hostile contact. The green-skinned, reptilian humanoids were not the prettiest sight to behold. As soon as they saw the Gammas, they opened fire, taking another trooper down with the opening volley. The Gammas all took cover along the sides of the hallway and waited for Lead's order. He held his hand in a fist and jabbed two fingers at the Trandos down the hall. When the incoming fire died down, all at once, the clones of Gamma unit came out of their cover and opened up with a long burst of full automatic fire. The resulting firestorm killed all six Trandoshans within seconds. Lead brought three of his men forward and assessed the situation. After peering down the corridor to make sure they were safe, he lowered his rifle and kicked over one of the Trando bodies. Lead looked up to Deuce and waved his XO over.

When he arrived, he pointed at the body, "What do you see here?"

76 looked the body over briefly, "The weapons aren't standard issue. Some kind of civilian operation. Slavers, maybe."

Lead nodded, "That's what I thought, but what clued me into that is how fat the bugger is. No military would ever allow that. That leaves the question of 'What do slavers want with a Republic assault ship?'."

"Hopefully, we'll find out _after_ we get rid of them."

Lead nodded, "Agreed. Let's move out, Gammas." The platoon continued through the halls, dealing with the little resistance they faced from the under-trained slavers. When they reached the hanger, they walked into a mess of blaster fire and explosions. The Republic troops were all behind the cover of crates and battle shields at the back end of the hanger, firing at the Trandoshans defending their ship.

Lead quickly assessed the situation, then looked to his troops, "Find cover and get in there, boys. Don't stop until that ship is either gone or destroyed."

The Gammas spread themselves along the line wherever there were holes they could plug. The battle was going well at first. The slavers were using older weapons like old slug throwers and the occasional old-as-dirt blaster. They were losing ground very fast, solidly beaten back by the clones' onslaught. They had been pretty near beaten back into their ship, when the whole situation went to the incinerator. The last of the slavers ducked his ugly head back into the ship and the Republic troops began to advance toward the ship to try to take it. Just as they were coming to the doors, the ship rocked hard and the PA system blared with the captain's voice.

"_Attention, combat teams. Intruders have breached the bridge deck. I say again, Intruders have breached the bridge deck. I want a platoon to report to the bridge immediately._"

Lead opened his unit channel, "That platoon's going to be us, Gammas. Regroup at the door."

The unit regrouped at the exit and was about to move out when they heard a number of short, terse whistles, quickly followed by a series of explosions from behind them. Lead looked back and saw a number of clones getting blown clear of the blasts and the rest retreating as fast as they could. More Trandoshans were poring out of the ship. These guys had military grade weapons and armor and acted cohesively in squads. These Trandos were no slavers. One particularly large Trandoshan stepped off the ship carrying a very big gun. He leveled the gun and unleashed a hailstorm of fire that started picking off Republic troops very quickly. Lead looked at the morbid spectacle and idly wondered where he could get a gun like that. He came to when he remembered that they had to get to the bridge. He left his clone brothers behind to die at the hands of these lizards and moved through the door. On the way, the Gammas came across several of these military Trandos. They immediately ducked for cover used focused fire to bring down two more troopers. They were a whole lot harder to eliminate than the slavers. Lead looked at one of his troopers, held up one finger, and pointed it at the Trandos. The trooper nodded and followed the order by pulling a thermal detonator and tossing it at the targets. Lead's eyes followed to see if it worked. Most unexpectedly, when the detonator landed, one of the Trandos picked it up and threw it back. Lead's eyes bugged and he swung his rifle at the grenade, slapping it away with the stock. It flew into the wall and exploded, blasting some wall paneling off. Lead ducked behind his cover away from the blast, then looked back at the Trandos and cursed them under his breath. He pulled a flashbang detonator and armed it. He counted off three full seconds before throwing it to make sure it went off before they could throw it back.

"Eyes down, Gammas." Lead threw the grenade toward the Trandos. The flashbang detonator didn't do any damage to its surroundings when it exploded. Instead it had a flash ablative casing and a small, compacted explosive payload. The result when it went off was a blinding flash and a disorienting bang, hence the name "flashbang". The grenade exploded just before hitting the ground, right in the Trandos eyes, with all of Gamma unit managing to shield their eyes and ears before hand. The Trandos stopped firing when they went blind.

Lead waved his hand forward, "Let's go, Gammas. Nail 'em to the ground." The unit rose from cover and stormed the Trandos position. The Trandoshans, still dazed from the grenade, fell to the combined fire.

Lead looked at the Trandoshan bodies, then to his men, "We can't let them delay us like that again, Gammas. We've got to move." Just as they were about to get on the move again, Lead felt a slight lurch through the deck. He looked to Deuce.

"You feel that?"

Deuce nodded, "Yeah. We've jumped into hyperspace. Where the devil are we off to, though?"

Deuce finished his sentence and Lead's command channel opened, "_Hostiles have breached the bridge! Repeat: hostiles have breached the bridge! All combat teams…_" the line faded to static.

Lead's eyes bugged, "Not good. We gotta move!" The Gammas doubled their pace to get to the bridge, but were quickly intercepted by another squad of Trandos. Lead dove for some cover and pulled another flashbang. He armed the grenade and counted off two seconds for the timer. He wheeled around to throw it when he saw a number of enemy detonators flying toward them. He dropped the flashbang and dove back, away from a series of loud explosions from behind him. Lead rolled over to stand up when something struck him in the head. Everything went black.


	8. Chapter 8

Lead sat up from behind the crate he was using as cover and looked down the hall. Nothing, except for the carbon scoring on the walls, fallen support beams, broken maintenance panels, and other debris strewn everywhere. It had been almost two weeks since the _Prosecutor_ had been attacked originally. At least he thought it was two weeks. The remaining clones on the ship had been fighting for their very survival day after day for so long that the time just seemed to blur together after a while. Lead pulled the power pack from his rifle and checked the display. It read fifty three shots left, and it was the fullest one he had. Their ammo had been starting to run low over the past day or two, so all the clones were working off of partial blaster packs and leftovers. The precious few grenades they had left were being saved in case of a really big problem.

Lead had seen this whole battle play out over time, at least the last week and a half of it. During the initial attack when the Trandos first hit, he'd been knocked unconscious and was out for about a day. The headache he woke up with afterward would've made a gundark cry. It was Gamma unit's "none left behind" policy that saved his hide. Since then, he'd seen the Trandos attack in wave after wave with no care for self preservation. They'd recently been adopting berserker tactics, charging in large numbers with close-quarters weapons to attack the Republic troops, very effectively so. Gamma unit had been reduced by ten soldiers by now, and what was left was scattered throughout the ship. All that was left of the Republic forces on the _Prosecutor_ were some handfuls of desperate clones fighting to save their skins, never mind the ship.

It almost reminded Lead of his first sim in command back on Kamino.

He looked around at the men he had available. This group had members of Tau, Beta, Kappa, and Epsilon platoons. Lead was the only Gamma here. He was also the ranking trooper here since the bridge crew and officers had been all been killed in the first strike. There were a couple of other lieutenants somewhere on the ship, but he was the only one present.

He pointed at his temporary 2iC, Tau 419, "You have command. If I'm not back in around an hour, you're the new lead." He stepped by him to go to the equipment locker.

The Tau's gaze followed him, "Where are you going?"

Lead knelt next to the locker, "To see if I can't find some more ammo. If we don't get some more soon, those bloody lizards will have us right where they want us." He opened the locker and removed a carry pack to stash whatever he found in. After closing the locker, he stood and checked the auto turret control panel nearby. The one saving grace this group had was the auto turrets on the ceiling above them. They had limitless ammo and fired on anything that wasn't Republic, greatly bolstering their defense. The problem was the Trandos had been making runs for the panel to recalibrate the turrets' IFF codes. If they did that, the turrets would fire on the clones. Lead had a guard stationed at the panel constantly, but an armed sentry never stopped a Trando from trying.

He looked back at the group, "Guard this console with your lives. If the lizards reprogram the codes, we're in a heap of it." With that comment, he turned down a hallway and disappeared from their sight. He kept his rifle at the ready. Those accursed scavenger droids were still patrolling the halls and vents of the ship and could pop out anywhere, and the last thing Lead wanted was to have his brain impaled by one of the malevolent little things.

Thinking about the whole situation was very depressing, because it looked well nigh hopeless. The ship had jumped into hyperspace during the first attack and had come out the Force knows where in the galaxy. Their enemies seemed to have a fairly steady supply of reinforcements, else they wouldn't keep throwing them away in berserker tactics. The clones, on the other hand, had no reinforcements available, and all the communications equipment they could get to had been destroyed in the fighting, so they couldn't contact the Republic. The Trandos controlled a large portion of the ship, whereas the Republic troops were reduced to little pockets of desperate resistance. All in all, it looked fairly bleak.

All in all, it sometimes made Lead wish he'd lost that first sim so he would know how to deal with a no-win situation.

He ducked into what was left of an armory. The door had been blown open and there were signs of previous battle around it. Lead half expected the armory to have been ransacked already in a previous gathering run, but was pleasantly surprised to find two cases of blaster ammo. That meant they only had ten more power packs to split between six troopers, but that was practically a lifetime supply. He also found a satchel of grenades, giving them some more firepower to use in hotter battles.

Lead eyed the burned out hulk of what used to be one of the scav droids. Someone must have discharged an ECD on this one. He pried off the outer casing and started rummaging through its innards. A side objective for this excursion was that Lead was keeping his eyes peeled for components they could cobble together into a communications system, something they could use to contact the Republic. He would call Sensors over to his group to put it together if he could find enough parts. Sensors had fortunately survived the slaughter of the bridge crew, barely at that. He dug through the parts searching for what looked like communication gear that the droid would use to receive orders and communicate with others of its kind. He found what looked like a transceiver array and gingerly removed it from its seating to look it over. It had been badly surged by the EMP, but none of the parts were fused and it looked like it was still operable. He put it in the pack and stood to check the hallway. There was nothing out there, so he continued on to where he remembered the nearest communications console was. It had been destroyed in battle, but maybe there were some parts still functional that they could use.

As he began to move down the hallway, a part of the "ceiling" spotted him and detached itself to follow him. The droid closed to about two meters with Lead completely none the wiser, when it struck with characteristic swiftness. The droid grabbed Lead's back with half a dozen arms and readied its drill. Lead knew when it grabbed him that the arms were no danger, but the drill was. He dropped his rifle and grabbed the drill, pushing it away from his face as best he could. It was running full speed and would only take a moment to get through his visor if he let up. He staggered back and rammed the droid into the wall. That didn't damage it, but it shifted it up where he could reach it better. Lead grabbed his pistol, jammed the muzzle into the droids innards, and started firing. He fired five times before the drill stopped and the clamps on his back released. The dead droid slid off Lead's back and fell to the deck, smoke poring from the hole his blaster made. He kicked the carcass down the hall and shot it twice more before holstering his pistol, picking up his rifle, and cautiously proceeding down the hall. He reached the communication console without further incident. Along the way, he found the body of another dead trooper. He was holding an empty blaster with several spent power packs around him.

_Good man to go down fighting._

Lead removed the good power packs from his body, saluted his fallen brother, and went on. When he got to the console, the first thing he did was pry off the front panel to get a good look at the internals. There was a huge hole blasted in the center of the console, but there was a good chance some of the internal components were still operable. In conjunction with the hole in the outer panel, there was a carbon crusted hole in the center of the devices and components beneath. In spite of the damage done, however, Lead managed to acquire a working comms processor, a signal booster, an antennae array, and a frequency scanner. He took the mike and speaker set from the helmet of another fallen clone trooper to round out the package. He also found another half case of blaster packs and three more grenades. On his way back to the campsite he assessed what he'd collected. He had managed to acquire all the parts for a functional communication system. He didn't know how far it would reach, but it was something. For all they knew, there was a Republic ship right outside trying to get a hold of them. The only problem was getting a hold of Sensors to assemble it. Not only did they not have any access to long range communications, but even the short range comm units in their helmets hadn't been functioning since the first attack. There was nothing wrong with the units themselves, so the only other option was one Lead really didn't like. They were being jammed. Lead didn't like it because it meant they would have to mount a search for the jamming device and effect its removal before they communicate at all, a proposition that was suicidal at best. The Trandos had a strong hold on the rest of the ship, and they weren't going to just let the clones in to destroy the jammer if they just said "please".

Lead arrived back at the campsite long before his hour time limit was up, and the others were very glad to see that he'd found extra ammo and grenades.

He handed the carry pack to Tau 19, "Divide that ammo amongst yourselves. Leave the electronic components in the bag. Same as before, if I'm not back in an hour, you're in command. I have to go find someone." Without another word, he turned and left. The trip to find Sensors was a lot less eventful than Lead expected it to be. He nearly had another run in with another attack droid, but he spotted it while it was still lying in wait attached to the wall, so he pulled his blaster pistol and removed the nuisance. Lead was trying to use his pistol wherever he could because it wasn't as powerful as his rifle and he had more of its ammo. He wanted to save his rifle ammo for when he needed it. When he arrived at Sensors' campsite, he found everyone hunkered down in defensive positions, scanning the hallways with their weapons, but there was no threat in sight.

"Sensors, if you got some time on your hands -"

"Lead, behind you!" Sensors leveled his rifle on Lead's head as he spoke. Without hesitation, the clone dropped flat on the deck just in time to hear the weapon fire and strike something behind him. Lead pulled himself up and turned to see a droid fall to the deck smoking.

"You caught us right in the middle of a droid raid. We think there's about three more of them still hiding around here." There was a flash of fire and a loud blast of static from the other end of the hall, "Correction, two more."

"That's the second time today one of those buggers has nearly gotten me from behind." Lead knelt down next to his trooper and readied his weapon, "Can these guys hold their own without you, Sensors? I've got a project I want you to work on."

He shrugged, "Yeah, these Epsilons can manage themselves for now. What sort of project?"

"I've managed to get a hold of the basic components for a comms array. I want you to put it together since you're the resident expert on gizmos of this sort."

"As long as it's all Republic tech, I could cobble something together fairly quickly. It may take longer if it's the garbage these Trandos use." As he finished speaking, he wheeled around and put a rifle blast into a piece of wall that was slowly crawling towards them. The droid released the wall and fell dead on the floor.

Lead nodded, "Only one piece isn't, that's the transceiver unit. Will that be a problem?"

58 shook his head, "Those are pretty universal. It should mesh with the rest, no problem." He scanned the hallway again, "Now where's that last–" Before he could finish, the last droid dropped from the ceiling and clamped onto Sensors shoulders. The clone immediately dropped his rifle and stood to his feet. Lead turned to try to draw a bead on the droid, but it was too late. Sensors had already slammed the droid against the wall to loosen the clamps, pulled it off his shoulders, and pinned it against the wall with one hand, holding the active drill in the other.

"How's this, you frelling fierfek?" Sensors jammed the drill into an opening in the droid's belly. Sparks shot from every joint the droid had and it convulsed for several moments before all its limbs went limp. Sensors dropped the droid's carcass to the floor and brushed himself off.

"I hate those bloody droids."

Lead nodded, "Can you hate them later? You're on my chip right now, Sensors. We gotta move." The clone picked up his rifle and the two headed off. The lead Epsilon would take charge without pause in Sensors' absence. As they went, the two caught up on old times from the past two weeks by telling stories from their individual camps. Some of them were stories of how those stinking attack droids squeezed into a maintenance panel and got the drop on an unlucky trooper, while others were pretty far fetched fish tales.

Lead laughed and shook his head, "You're kidding."

"I swear, 14 landed the grenade right between the Trando's legs. You can ask him yourself."

Lead hung his head back, "I don't believe you guys." Silence hung for a long moment before Sensors spoke up again.

"You ever wonder sometimes how it ever came to this?"

That question brought Lead's head around, "What do you mean?"

Sensors one-arm cradled his rifle and gestured with his other hand, "Well…It's more the question of 'Have you ever considered that we may not survive this?'. I mean, we were on routine patrol in the Corellia system when, boom, these Trandos pull our britches over our heads and tie 'em in a knot. This doesn't just happen everyday, Lead, getting stranded like this. Kinda gets you thinking that we may be up against something bigger than us. That can be a scary thought." Sensors adjusted his belt. Over the course of the past year, Sensors had taken to wearing a gray kama like the ones some commanders wore. The cloth fully covered his backside, starting from the sides of his belt and came down to behind his knees. Normally it was worn as a symbol of rank, but he wore it to add some cushioning to the bridge's sensor station chair, "I don't know, I just…I just kinda hoped I might die in a more heroic way. Not like this."

Lead set his rifle up on his shoulder, "Sensors, we're clones. We were all designed to be expendable. The Kaminoans didn't create a bunch of heroes; they created soldiers to fight and to die for the Republic. All we can hope for is that we do our job the best we can before we do get killed, how and whenever that may be." He looked over at Sensors, "Not everybody likes the roles they're put in, 58. Ours just tends to be the more thankless of them."

Sensors looked at him, "Can't stop me from dreaming, can it?"

Lead's head dropped back and he looked forward again, "You and your bloody optimism. I'm trying to get you ready to die here, and you're not playing along." Both of them chuckled at the exchange, but their levity was cut short by the sound of gunfire ahead.

Lead heard the blast and stopped in his tracks, "That's a Trando weapon. Let's move!" Most of the Transoshans were using an antiquated spread gun that looked and sounded for all the world like an old slug thrower shotgun. Whatever sound it made, it was a bad sound. The two double-timed it for the remaining distance and arrived to find the camp under Trandoshan attack. Lead knelt into a firing position and put a shot right in one Trando's face, stopping him cold. Sensors planted a couple of bursts into another to bring the odds down closer to theirs. The auto turrets were firing at any Trandos that came in sight. It looked like they were in the clear when three more came into view – right next to the auto turret console. Lead's stomach turned to stone and he fired at the Trando nearest him. He had to get a clear shot at the one headed for the console.

Suddenly, a hail of blaster fire erupted from the other end of the hall. A commando in orange highlight armor appeared out of nowhere, punched a Trandoshan with his gauntlet vibroblade, and then put a burst of blaster fire into the head of the one behind the console.

He pointed at the one remaining Trando, "Better not let him take over the turrets." The last Trando fired his gun at the commando only to be rewarded with a flash of blue around his armor as the shields absorbed the damage. The commando grabbed the Trando's wrist, twisted his arm around so the spread gun was pointed into the lizard's belly, and pulled the trigger. Without skipping a beat, he walked to the console and began looking it over. After he was satisfied that it was intact, he looked at the rest of the clones to see if they needed further aid. Lead could almost swear he'd seen that particular set of orange commando armor before.

One of the troopers, Beta 142, walked up to the commando, "Oh, one of the deluxe models. Come to save us with your 'superior training'?" Lead thought the mocking quality of his voice thoroughly inappropriate to the soldier who'd just saved their lives.

The commando responded quickly enough, "This 'deluxe model' is the only thing standing between you and a bloody death," He touched his rifle muzzle to the clone's chest and his tone dropped to a growl, "so you'd best be showing some respect, trooper."

The Beta straightened up right quick with that response, "Yes, sir! What are your orders, sir?"

The commando motioned to the campsite and surrounding area, "Hold the line. Kill any lizards you see. I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

The clone saluted as the commando walked away, "Will do, sir." Lead definitely recognized the voice, because the accent was identical to his own. He'd seen a few commandoes in his time, but the only one he'd seen with the combination of _that_ accent with _that_ color armor was one. That could only be Delta 38, and that meant Delta Squad was here. And if Delta Squad was here, that meant the Republic had found them. Lead went to get a hold of Delta 38 to ask if he'd brought reinforcements, but he'd already moved on to clean house in another part of the ship.

He looked at Beta 42 and grabbed him by his chest plate, "You want to show a little respect to someone who just saved our skins next time? He was right. That commando is the only thing standing between us and a one-way trip to joining the others in the garbage holds. Try using the brain you supposedly have in that skull."

The Beta wrenched Lead's hand free, "I'm sorry, all right?"

Lead looked to Sensors, "The equipment's over here." The two spent the next several hours trying to rig the components together into something that might actually work if you smack it in the right spots. It was no easy task like Sensors thought it would be. Some of the equipment was degaussed from power surges throughout the ship, some of it was faulty from EMP, and the rest was just plain mucked up for one reason or another. There was one instance where Sensors accidentally cross-wired the power source with the receiver and nearly shorted everything out. Another instance with a degaussed plug connected into the transceiver assembly and the antennae array had some weird things happening. The comms system still didn't work, but they could hear Sensors' heartbeat really well. While waiting through the communications escapade, there was a loud thud that came from the upper decks. No one had any idea what it could have been, but Lead had an idea that Delta Squad was up to something. Finally, Sensors activated the unit and received some signals that weren't from inside his body.

He motioned to Lead, "Sir, I've got something."

"'Bout bloody time. Can you get anything through the jamming?"

Sensors shrugged, "There isn't any. I've got a clear line to the other camps and to a Republic presence somewhere outside the ship, as well."

Lead's head perked back, "No jamming? What could have happened to it?"

Sensors glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, "I think Delta Squad happened to it."

"Good point. Get a hold of the other camps and get a sit rep."

It took a few minutes, but Sensors reported in on each camp, "Camp two is reporting all clear. No Trandos anywhere. Camp three has a similar report. Camp four is the same. Camp five…" he trailed off, "camp five is reporting they're under attack by–" his head came up, "battle droids?"

That brought Lead's head up, as well, "Battle droids? How can that be? We haven't seen any of them for months. How and why are they showing up now?"

"I don't know, but I just lost contact. Sounds like they were overrun."

Lead cursed under his breath. He had a couple of Gammas down there. He hoped they both made it out all right.

"Where the devil did the droids show up from?"

Sensors shifted his weight on his knees, "Just before they cut off, they said something about a Trando leading them."

Lead pulled his helmet off and scratched his head, "All right, new question: how did the Trandos get a hold of Sep battle droids?"

One of the other clones spoke up, "They could have some alliance with the Seps that we never knew about."

Lead nodded, "Or maybe they formed it just recently." He sat down on a nearby crate and rubbed his scar, a habit he'd formed while it was healing that had extended to something he did while he was thinking, "The Trandoshans have always been a neutral party. Why would they start taking sides in the war?"

Sensors shut down the comm unit, "Trandoshans are a self-centered bunch, sir. They wouldn't have made this decision unless there was something in it for them."

Lead's head came up, "Maybe there is." He looked to the others as he spoke, "They're normally just interested in acquiring Wookie pelts. But guess who one of the Republic's big allies is."

Beta 42 answered bluntly, "The Wookies."

Lead nodded, "The Seps give the Trandos some extra firepower and they can take Kashyyyk and get their slaves and skins. That liberates the Seps to divert more forces to other Republic targets _and_ takes away one of the Republic's biggest allies. It's a mutual benefit situation." Lead hung his head and sighed, "If we could get this intel to the Republic, we could avert a major disaster on Kashyyyk."

Sensors was listening very intently to the comms array again. Lead was about to go on when Sensors raised his hand to shush everyone.

"Lead, I think you want to hear this. I've got several frequencies online. This one's Delta Squad and their advisor." He turned on the unit's speakers.

Lead didn't like what he heard with the first words, "_Delta lead, be advised: I have a Separatist battle cruiser on long range sensors._"

"_I sense violence in our near future._"

The line faded out to static and ended with a loud thud.

Lead looked to Sensors, "That's not good."

Sensors nodded, "It sounds like the Trandos agreed to meet the Seps here." He fiddled with a knob, "This one is a Sep frequency."

The voice that came over the line was monotone and mechanical, like the droids, "_Roger, roger. All B1 units moving to neutralize Republic presence. Await reinforcements in hanger bay A._"

The next voice was much lower, "_Roger, roger. SBD-457 through 469 moving to intercept and neutralize Republic commando squad. All units assist when able. Awaiting reinforcements._"

Lead head came up fast, "SBD? That nomenclature is 'super battle droid'."

Sensors nodded again, "And they're after the Deltas."

Some more came over the line from the Delta advisor, "_Calling all Republic ships near the Corbantis system, this is an emergency._" There was a long pause, "_All Republic ships in the Corbantis system, respond immediately!_" There was another long pause before another voice came on, "_This is Capt. Talbot, of the R.A.S. cruiser _Arrestor_. Who am I speaking to?_"

"_This is Delta squadron advisor 01/425. Separatist forces are attempting to capture our ship._"

"_Roger that. Help is on the way._"

All the clones listening let out a whoop of joy. Finally, there was a Republic cruiser on its way to get them out of this mess. There was finally some hope that they might survive. All the clones who could hear cheered.

All except Lead. His blood ran cold as he thought about what was going on.

Sensors stopped celebrating and looked at his CO, "What's wrong, Lead?"

Lead looked up at Sensors, "There's only one reason the Delta Squad advisor would declare an emergency," He stood up from the crate he was seated on, "and that's if that Sep battle cruiser has already shown up."

The thought hit Sensors like an ion blast to his brain, "That means…" He trailed off, "That means they could send an endless stream of battle droids into this ship."

Lead pulled his helmet back on, "Call the Gammas to form up at this location. We've got work to do." It took the better part of twenty minutes to get the Gammas back together again, but they all finally reconnoitered at camp one. 76 came up leading the last of the Gammas to the gather point.

Lead shook his XO's hand, "Good to see you again, Deuce. It's been over a week and a half, hasn't it?"

The clone shrugged, "I stopped counting after two days. They all just tend to run together when you're fighting for your life."

"You're right there." Lead opened his unit-wide channel and addressed his remaining soldiers, "Listen up, Gammas. Delta Squad is on this ship and their saving our bacon, but they can't pull it off alone. So we're going to move through this ship and see if we can't rendezvous with them. We're going to blast any Sep droids and Trandos in our way. If we're going to die here, let's not die with our faces to the ground. That is our mission." Lead's last comment raised a psyched-up grunt from his troops.

"Let's move it out." The reunited Gammas began to move through the ship, heading toward the hanger bays where the Seps were going to start sending in their droids. On the way, Lead heard a noise from up ahead and halted their movement. He wished he could have Sensors check and see what it was, but his sensor pack was destroyed in the first attack. Lead held up two fingers and began to advance slowly, with the two men closest to him in his wake. He stopped at the corner of the hallway and leaned around as carefully as possible. He spied with one eye two SBDs trying to figure out a way through a blocked door. Lead gave a "follow" motion with his first two fingers, signaling the rest of the platoon to come up quietly. He looked to his contact man, 89, and held up two fingers, then one finger in a crooked form, then pointed around the corner at the droids. His motions were a silent order to throw two ECDs at the droids on the mark. Lead looked to everyone else, tapped his rifle, and pointed around the corner, signaling them to fire on the mark. Lead readied himself and held up three fingers. He counted down to one, then sprung out from the corner with the Gammas following him. 89 tossed two ECDs at the SBDs, which went off moments later, engulfing the droids in static lightning. The combination of the EMP and the Gammas' gunfire killed the droids without them ever knowing they were there. The two super battle droids fell to the deck quite dead, covered in carbon score marks and lightning still playing over their frames. 89 saved using their remaining detonation packs by using a combination of a thermal detonator and the droids' power cells to clear the rubble from the door. The Gammas pressed on, eliminating droids as they went. They came to an intersection and Lead stopped to get his bearings. He looked left but didn't find a way out like he was looking for. He looked right just in time to see an SBD launch a wrist rocket at the unit.

Lead's eyes bugged and he dove away, "Scatter!" The Gammas dove in every direction as the rocket streaked through where they just were and exploded on a wall near them. There were three SBDs in the hallway, and Lead figured that the path of most resistance was probably the way they wanted to go. The problem was the droid roadblock in their way.

Lead called to contact, "ECDs, now!" 89 tossed two more grenades down the hall and landed them right in front of the droids. The grenades went off and blue ionized lightning played over the droids' skins, and they convulsed violently.

"Move in!" Lead called as he shouldered his rifle and fired as he closed distance with the droids, his troopers following. The droids took tremendous fire before going limp and standing dead in the hallway. Lead signaled his men to keep moving forward.

The third droid, though, had escaped the EMP. It smashed the carcasses of its fallen brethren out of it way and unleashed a hailstorm of suppressing fire that the Gammas were not prepared for. Everyone got to cover in time with only minor wounds, but their path was blocked again, and it was hard to get out with the gunfire. Lead pulled an ECD from his belt and armed it. He waited for a split second for the fire to let up slightly, then he cranked around his cover and tossed the grenade. He started out from behind his cover toward the droid and prepared to fire when the detonator went off. The grenade landed, but what happened next took Lead completely by surprise. The super battle droid raised its foot and stomped on part of the grenade, crushing the circuitry pack that told the detonator when to go off, but leaving the rest intact. Lead's eyes went wide. The ECD was now useless in every sense of the word, and that left him out in the open with an SBD aiming at him. He saw a rocket load into its launcher and knew what was to follow. Lead broke his forward momentum and lost his balance, falling to the deck, the droid keeping its bead on him. Lead closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, preparing for the worst.

"NO!" The scream came from behind him. Sensors jumped over Lead and tackled the droid, throwing off its aim just as the rocket fired. It soared down the hall and exploded when it hit the end. Sensors hung onto the droid as it moved to try to grab him. Lead used this opportunity to get to his feet and ready his rifle, but his jaw went limp at what he saw next. The droid yanked Sensors off itself and, holding him at arm's length, fired three blasts into his chest, Sensors screaming with each one. The droid reared back and threw Sensors toward Lead and halted to assess its own damage. Lead dropped his rifle and scrambled over to where Sensors was. He pulled Sensors' helmet off and lifted him up. There was a fist-sized, carbon-crusted hole in the center of his armor, with a lot worse inside. There wasn't anything they could do for him in time.

Lead looked down at his soldier, "Well, you got your heroic death, Sensors. How's it feel?"

Sensors coughed and spoke through shallow breaths. He smiled, "Not all it's cracked up to be."

Lead smiled too. Leave it to Sensors to be the optimist.

His smile faded and he looked Lead in the eye, "Lead, the mission…Remember…the mission…" With that last breath, Sensors' head fell back in Lead's arms. Lead gritted his teeth. Sensors had died saving his life, and that sacrifice would not be in vain.

He closed Sensors' eyes and laid him back on the deck, "Your mission's done, soldier."

Lead then looked at the SBD still standing there, the SBD that had killed _his_ trooper. A burst of rage permeated his guts as he glared at the droid. Without warning, Lead snapped and sprang. He tackled the SBD and took it off its feet. He straddled the droid, grabbed its chest casing, and pulled furiously until it came loose. He braced his foot against its gun arm to pry the plate open, reached into the droid's innards, grabbed as much as his hand could hold, and jerked it all out. He came out with a fist full of wires and circuits. Sparks shot from the droid's joints and it convulsed for a moment, but it was still alive. Its legs had gone dead, but it was still flailing with its arms. Lead reached back in, higher up this time, and yanked another handful of droid guts. The arms sparked and went dead. He yanked out one last handful just to be sure before standing and looking at his men. They were all staring at him in utter disbelief, and rightly so, considering their lieutenant had just killed a super battle droid with his bare hands.

"What are you looking at? We've got a job to do." His men all snapped out of it and started to form up when the ship rocked hard.

Lead looked to Deuce, "That felt like a turbolaser blast."

Deuce nodded, "More than one, at that."

The ship rocked again, shortly followed by another. A cold realization entered Lead's mind.

He looked to Deuce, "It's the Sep cruiser. They can't take the ship, so they're going to destroy it."

Snipes looked at Lead, "Now what're we going to do?"

Lead shrugged, "We're going to find Delta Squad. Hopefully they'll know what to do." The Gammas continued on as best the ship's shuddering and rocking would allow. They left Sensors' body where it was and memorized the location. The Gammas would give him a proper service before he got shipped back to Kamino after this all blew over. The unit continued on through the ship as best they could. With every blast from the Sep ship the clones were thrown to the floor and tossed against bulkheads, significantly slowing their progress. They came into the service corridors and started moving a little faster.

Lead rounded a corner only to be staring down the blaster barrels of an SBD and about half a dozen battle droids. Lead and a couple others dove to the other side of the corridor out of the way of their gunfire and hunkered down. Lead rolled on his shoulders and came up against the wall. There was a hailstorm of gunfire coming down the hall that was nearly impenetrable.

Lead hollered to contact, "ECD, now!" Con promptly obeyed and tossed an ECD down the hall. Lead did the same and was pleased to hear the static crackle of the grenades going off. He wheeled around the corner to fire and was displeased to see that there were more droids coming to the line and the SBD was still live and firing. Lead cursed. They were quickly running out of ECDs. Lead figured a bold move was in order. He pulled two thermals from his belt, armed one and tossed it, then waited. Like clockwork, when the grenade landed, the SBD shielded itself, a limited-use high energy shield used specifically for explosive blasts equipped on the recent SBD models. The grenade detonated and deflected against the shield, leaving the droid unscathed.

"Bring him down!" Lead called out to his troops. They all obediently fired, but Lead knew they'd only crack its armor plating with its shield up. The shield dropped and somebody's blast cracked a chest plate off. Lead held his fist in the air and halted everyone's gunfire. Lead left his rifle behind his cover and charged the droid with the other grenade. The next moment whizzed by in a flash. Lead armed the grenade, ducked under the droid's left hook, jammed the grenade into the droid's guts, and snapped out his hardest linear kick to the droid's middle. Lead twisted and strained something in his leg when his foot hit, but it worked. The droid flew backward and exploded brilliantly, taking another half dozen other droids with it. The blast knocked Lead on his back and he felt a burning pain driving up his leg. He tried to stand and got no response from his leg. Blaster bolts were pocking the floor as the droids tried to get him while he was down. Lead pulled himself along as best he could until he felt two sets of hands grab his arms and start dragging him. Three of his troopers had taken up cover fire positions over him while two more drug him back to cover.

The first thing Lead did once he was safe was look over his cover to assess the situation. There were droids pouring out of the door at the end of the corridor and they were quickly outnumbering the Gammas. They were in a bad way.

Deuce knelt down next to Lead, "We can't hold much longer."

Lead set his rifle up on his cover as a tripod, "Then we'll hold as long as we can." Lead pulled himself up and sighted a droid to take out, but before he could shoot, he felt something run through the deck.

He looked back at Deuce, "Did you feel that? That wasn't a turbolaser blast."

Deuce nodded, "Maybe it was, just not hitting us."

"Then that means we're shooting back." Lead shook his head, "But how? There's no one available to man the gunnery stations." Each blast vibration was steadily followed by another. After one blast, all the droids in the corridor halted their actions and stood still. The Gammas all stopped firing and look around puzzled. Snipes helped Lead hobble over to one of the droids. He gently pushed the mech and it harmlessly fell to the floor.

"They're all offline," Lead muttered to himself, "We must've gotten the Sep ship's droid control systems." The turbolaser vibrations had ended and a low shockwave reverberated through the corridor.

Snipes looked around, "What was that?"

Lead smiled behind his helmet, "That must've been the Sep ship going up." Lead raised his voice, "That means we've won!" The platoon let out a cheer of joy.

"We're getting out of here!"

"The Republic's found us!"

All of Lead's troops rejoiced at winning. Lead let out a burdened sigh of relief. After two weeks of day-to-day fighting for their lives, it was finally over. The unit cautiously continued through the ship, stepping over hundreds of inert droid carcasses, until they found Delta Squad at gunnery station 3B.

Snipes helped Lead up to Delta 38, who shook his hand, "319 and the infamous Gammas. How did I know that you guys would be right in the middle of the resistance here?"

Lead shrugged, "Bad credit chips always turn up. Thanks for saving our hides. We wouldn't be on our way out of here if it weren't for you guys."

Scorch spoke up, "You're just lucky this bucket turned up when it did. From the looks of things here, you guys wouldn't have lasted much longer."

Lead nodded, "Especially not with a Sep cruiser breathing down our necks. Every clone on this ship owes you our lives, Delta Squad. If you ever need help for anything, Gamma unit will come running."

Delta 38 tapped his finger on Lead's torso plate, "It doesn't look like you're going to be running anywhere, 19. What'd you do to your leg that you need help gimping around?"

He shrugged, "Messed it up knocking down an SBD. Well worth it, I think."

"Well, you'll be the first casualty we see to. Then you guys are headed to the nearest planetside barracks for some R&R." The commando leaned around Lead, "How 'bout it, Gammas? You up for some R&R after two weeks of this?" The whole unit cheered in obvious agreement. Lead found it amusing that when this whole fiasco started two weeks ago, they were all itching for action so much that they were starting fights with each other in the barracks. Now that they've had two solid weeks of action, they were dying for a chance to relax. Funny how the tables can turn like that.

The three weeks of down time the Gammas were rewarded with couldn't have been more needed. Lead had worked himself over solidly. From kicking one SBD, he'd strained four muscles in his thigh, slipped the cartilage out of his knee, and tore his Achilles tendon. It was nothing the med droids and a little bacta soak couldn't fix, but he still needed time to fully heal. The platoon needed time to adjust to the ten new troopers who joined their ranks as replacements. On top of all that, they just wanted a little peace and quiet.


	9. Chapter 9

Lead pressed his back against the fungus root he was using for cover. He peaked around and saw nothing, nothing but the fog that cursed this planet's atmosphere.

He knelt down and looked at his men, "Eyes and Ears. I need recon and I need it now." Lead's best recon trooper, Eyes, shouldered his weapon and began to cautiously move forward into the mist while his best sensor tech, Ears, knelt down to consult his arm console. Ears had been the replacement after Sensors' death two years ago. CT-03/446 had graduated top of his class in the sensory training program, the program Sensors himself had designed. Eyes was an old veteran of Gamma unit having been with them since Geonosis, but only recently had been given his nickname. On the note of nicknames, Lead had long ago been given the nickname of "Max" by the Jedi generals he had served under. He didn't know why he'd been given it, but the platoon liked it and used it in off-duty hours. During a mission, though, make no mistake: he was Lead.

While waiting for his recon report, Max looked around at his troops. He never really liked the color orange when it was just on the jumpsuits, but now everyone in the unit had orange shoulders and helmets. That thought caused Lead to take a moment to reflect. A lot had changed in the Republic Army during the two years since the _Prosecutor_. Gone were the days of uniform design, color ranked armor. Armor color now indicated unit division rather than trooper rank. The entirety of the 212th Infantry was designated orange, Max's "favorite". What indicated trooper role was the different design of the Phase II armor they wore. For example, the engineers had a helmet with slightly more limited visibility than a trooper's, but sported mounts for lights and enhanced optics. The techs were the same save for the backpack cradle on the torso. On the other hand, scout/snipers had less armor protection and a helmet that sported enhanced visuals and could meet with a sniper scope well. Max and the assault troopers' version of the Phase II armor was much different from what the Phase I they wore when they were first fielded, for which Max was very grateful. This armor was more comfortable to wear, had some basic sensors, a wrist comlink, and was significantly more durable, not to mention _far_ more comfortable to sit in. In addition, thanks to advocacy from the Jedi, the troopers were now allowed to customize their armor to a limited degree. Max wore Sensor's old cloth kama in his honor, and had painted a maroon Republic Army emblem on the right pectoral of his torso plate. His only real issue with the Phase II armor was the changes made to the helmets. The "T" shaped visor was replaced with a lobed bar that was _supposed_ to grant better peripheral sight, but Lead thought it cut off some of his binocular vision in the process. The changes in armor design to suit role were not easy to get used to, but not impossible to adapt to at the same time.

Their weapons had also changed slightly during that time. The DC-15S blaster carbine was slowly replacing the DC-15A as standard issue. The weapon was more compact, used the same ammo as the 15A, and was cheaper to produce. Lead held on to his DC-15A anyway. The carbine was easier to work with, but it fired faster and had little to no recoil damping, throwing accuracy at range to the winds. Still, if used properly, the weapon filled the role well enough.

Max's reverie was interrupted by a pop on his comm channel, "_Recon 1 to Lead, the objective is directly ahead with critters all over it._"

He nodded, "Roger that. Maintain position and continue surveillance. Lead out." The unit's objective was a damaged AT-TE walker that had been part of a small convey that came under attack by indigenous life. Max cut his comm and cursed this planet under his breath. Felucia wouldn't have been that bad of a place to be deployed to, if it weren't for the perpetual jungle fog, flesh-eating spores, and nocturnal predators that turned the planet into a Force-forsaken stink hole. About a year after the _Prosecutor_ incident, the Separatist droid armies came to Felucia to use as a waypoint, dug their metal heels into the swamp and muck, and dared the Republic to come in after them. The Republic called their bluff. Rooting the Seps out of their holes wasn't much of a problem. The Republic had a good advantage in that Felucia's perpetually humid atmosphere played havoc on droids, requiring a lot of maintenance downtime. Republic troops, on the other hand, just had to hose out their armor from all the sweat after each day. Dealing with the indigenous life was the problem. The AT-TE the Gammas had to repair was under the watchful guard of some acklays, vicious insectoid creatures that stood twice as tall as a man with six sharp legs, a mouthful of carnivore teeth, and an attitude to match. If the droids weren't being a problem, these accursed beasts were.

Max turned around to waved his men forward and he and the rest of the Gammas began advancing on the AT-TE, and the acklays. As they cautiously approached, Lead could hear the ear-piercing shrieks and screams that often heralded a bad day. They closed the distance some more and Max could make out their silhouettes in the fog. There were two; one was just walking around screaming angrily, the other was mercilessly beating on the AT-TE mistaking it to be some gigantic animal that would have been its next meal. If the Gammas didn't stop that thing, it would tear the vehicle apart and it would be mission abort.

One of the recent additions, Gamma 86, spoke up, "Look at those things. They'd tear us all limb from limb if they could. I say we cut and break for the outpost."

Without a second thought, Lead one-hand swung his rifle around to point it right at 86's head, and addressed his soldier, "We will _not_ back down. Our orders stand. We are going to get that walker up and running and get it to Outpost 18. Failure to comply with orders is _not_ an option, soldier. We will do what the Republic has commanded us to do, even if we die trying. If I hear any more talk of shirking and running and disobeying orders out of you, make no mistake, I will kill you myself. Is that perfectly clear?"

There was a very pronounced shake in 86's voice, "Y-y-yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

Max shouldered his rifle again, "Good. Now let's get this right, Gammas. We only got one shot. Move in." The whole of Gamma unit advanced on the acklays. The one on the ground saw them quickly and began to charge. The Gammas took their position and opened up all guns on the creature. The acklay bucked under the continuous hail of blaster fire as it recklessly charged forward. The creature fell forward and collapsed into the mud, hundreds of smoking blaster wounds pocking its exoskeleton. Max stepped on the critter's neck and fired a long burst into its head. The buggers had a nasty habit of rearing back up after being put down. The second acklay announced its attack with a shrill screech. It jumped from the AT-TE and bounded through the mud to attack the clones. This animal proved far more cunning. It strode diagonally for a short distance before climbing up a twisting fungal tree and jumping down within spitting distance of the Gammas. The thing moved so fast that they couldn't draw a bead on it in time. The creature vaulted forward and took several soldiers off their feet. It picked up its forelegs and scissored them forward, catching one of the troopers in the sides of his armor. The claws pierced through until they found flesh and continued inward. The acklay picked the screaming trooper off the ground and shook him around for a moment before ending his torture by biting his head off. It dropped the body to the ground and screamed at the soldiers with bloody teeth. Most of the soldiers jumped back to a slightly safer range and continued firing.

Max's blood boiled at seeing one of his men die. He figured a bold move was in order. He stowed his rifle across his back and pulled out a thermal grenade. These new types of grenades were sheer marvel. They worked wonders on enemy infantry and adhered to vehicle armor like the older concussion grenades. Today, this one was going to have a taste of an acklay. The creature rotated away to swing at some troopers who were shooting it, providing Max with his opportunity. He sprang toward the acklay at full sprint. When he reached the creature, he jumped, gym-swung on one of its legs, and landed on its back. The beast immediately began to buck wildly, vehemently protesting Max's presence. Holding on for dear life with one arm, Max felt around its side until he found what felt like a joint between two carapace plates. He pulled his hand back and stiff-finger jabbed his way in. He pried the plate up enough to set his armed grenade _inside_ the creature's exoskeleton. He released the acklay and allowed himself to be thrown clear into the mud when it exploded. Two of the acklay's legs were blasted clean off and it completely lost motor control to the remaining four. The creature dropped into a heap of body parts and viscous green blood, but was still sporting for a fight. Max picked himself up and looked at the acklay, very dissatisfied with its severe lack of "dead". Thoroughly frustrated at the creature and switching his rifle to auto, Max walked up to its violently thrashing head, jammed his gun barrel into its mouth, and squeezed the trigger for two seconds. The acklay's head bucked and sagged into the muck. Max extricated his rifle from the creature's head and wiped off the green ooze as he looked around at his men. His engineers were already hard at work getting the AT-TE up and running again and the rest of his men were securing the area. He also saw the medics treating two troopers for injuries and counted a set of trooper armor laying in the mud, which meant casualties.

Some of the newcomers to the unit came up to Max, "Sir, that was amazing. Where did you learn that move?"

Max chuckled, "Learn it? I invented it while in training back on Kamino." He started to walk toward the walker when he heard the distinctive mechanical pumping of AT-RTs approaching, the small, two-legged All-Terrain-Recon-Transports. They came with another group of soldiers moving in to accompany.

Max scoffed, "Nice of the cavalry to show up _after_ the threat's been dealt with." He walked up to the CO in charge. These soldiers had blue highlights on their armor, and their shoulder marks identified them with the 501st Infantry, led by Commander Appo.

Appo motioned to the surrounding area, "Everything in order here, lieutenant?"

Max nodded sourly, "Yeah, no thanks to the great and mighty five-oh-first. We could have used some help knocking down a pair of bugs. I lost a man to those frelling things."

Appo regarded him with an equally sour tone, "We had our own bugs to deal with on the way here, and some mechs, so consider yourself lucky to have only lost one man."

Max held up the appropriate fingers, "One platoon, _two_ bugs, one man lost. Three platoons with more casualties? You tell me who has the better excuse, _sir_." Max brushed past him and looked around for the Jedi to give his report. He found Jedi Master Aayla Secura issuing orders to a group of scouts. She turned from them as they departed and regarded Max with a nod.

"Lieutenant Max, what's the situation?"

He gave his best salute to the Jedi, a Twi'Lek female with fair turquoise skin, "Ma'am, Gamma unit has secured the area and is currently prepping the walker for transport to Outpost 18."

She nodded, "Good. Get it ready to move as quickly as possible. I don't want to wait here a moment longer than we have to." Max went at ease when she walked past him to get a report from the recon walkers. Master Secura had been the clones' lifeline to sanity since they'd arrived. When things started getting rough on Felucia, she was always there to give a strong word of encouragement. All of Gamma unit was proud to serve under her command, but still looked forward to the day when they would be rotated out of this stink hole.

Max keyed his comm to his 2iC, "Deuce, this is Lead. Do you copy?"

76 came over loud and clear, "_Deuce here. What's up, Lead?_"

"Status on the walker?"

"_Hard to say, sir. Those frelling acklays 'bout near tore the darn thing apart. Sparks thinks he can get it good enough to move in about fifteen minutes._"

"Pick up the pace if you can. I want to be at Outpost 18 and a hot shower yesterday."

"_I copy that. Deuce out._"

Max closed his comm and felt under his chest plate until he found his charm of moment. They'd gotten through another bad situation relatively unscathed. He only prayed his luck would continue to hold as it had over the years. The Gamma engineers fixed the walker and the group started making their way to Outpost 18. Fortunately, it wasn't far, only a few clicks from their present position, and the local wildlife decided to give the clones a break for a bit. Upon their arrival, Max jumped down from the toehold he was riding on and peeled his helmet off. He'd recently shorn his hair down to the regulation two centimeters, so the tapered part at the back of his neck itched. He was greeted by the outpost commander, Commander Bly, and an entourage of troopers.

"About time you guys got that thing here. I was about ready to send a 'post warning out on you." Bly looked at some of his engineers, "Get that beetle to the maintenance bay. I want it good as new in one hour. Move!"

Max scratched at the itchy hair on the back of his neck, "We would've been here sooner, but we had some trouble with the local bugs in the area."

The commander nodded, "Kinda what I expected. You and your platoon can pack it into the barracks for a while. My men will take it from here."

Max scoffed, "Don't have to tell me twice." He raised his wrist and keyed the comm to Deuce, "Deuce, you copy?"

"You don't need that, Lead. I'm not even a meter from you." The voice came from over his shoulder.

Max just smiled as he turned around, "I'm sorry. I'll just use my Force senses to see if you're standing less then a meter behind me before I try to raise you on comm again. How's that?" "Force-sensitive clones" was a big joke in the Republic Army. The first year of the war, the Jedi had searched far and wide for clones with some connection to the Force, but their efforts turned up nothing and it was decided that the clones were definitively not Force-sensitive. Something to do with their template.

Deuce chuckled, "Very funny. What'd you need?"

Max made a gathering motion with his hand, "Gather the Gammas and head to the barracks." He smiled, "We get downtime."


	10. Chapter 10

Max toweled off his hair as he stepped out of the shower. Bathing was always a welcomed activity on Felucia. He finished drying off and threw on a fresh pair of shorts before heading out into the barracks with the rest of his guys. He looked around at his men lazing around the barracks. Max tried to get his men as much R&R time as possible these days. He couldn't expect his men to operate at maximum efficiency without having opportunity to unwind, especially in the harsh conditions of this planet.

He took note of some of the more recent arrivals, recent being within the last year. He looked over and saw the Gamma unit lead cryptanalysts/slicer tinkering with the terminal near the door.

"Hype, I thought I told you to stay away from that terminal."

The clone retracted from the terminal as though bitten and snapped to, "Sorry, sir."

Over the last year of the war, the Republic found it necessary to seize enemy information where ever they could. The excellent intelligence findings resulted in more and more units winding up with soldiers trained as slicers for infiltration into enemy computer systems. Gamma unit's best slicer was CT-03/206. He was the best slicer Max had ever seen, and he had seen a few slicers in his day. 06 could run circles around any computer security measures the Seps had. His skill came with a price, however. 06 suffered a DNA aberration during his birthing process. This mild mutation in his genetic code was not enough for him to be rejected and could be put to good use. The aberration gifted 06 with a dizzying intellect and light speed mental processing ability. This increased mental CPU power came at the cost of RAM, though. As dizzying as his intellect was, 06's lack of attention span was equally dizzying. Max had seen 06 pick up and drop up to four different tasks within the course of an hour, never returning to the first one unless reminded to do so. This "hyperactivity disorder", as the cloners called it, had given the slicer his nickname, Hype. The only thing Max didn't like about his best slicer was that, when not in action, Hype quite often found himself bored, and often sought to amuse himself by slicing into areas of the compound where he doesn't belong. If left unattended, Hype's attention span could get him into a bit of trouble.

Max looked over to one of the bunks and found his chief medic, Splint. He was laying on his bunk, staring intently at a data pad, running a stylus through his fingers. He was no doubt studying yet another medical journal. When they were first fielded back on Geonosis, the only medics the clones had any contact with were droids that stayed in the transports. Since then, the Republic apparently reconsidered the expendability of its troops and started detaching the medics from their adjacent transports. The droid medics turned out to be a disaster in combat situations, which set the Republic to plan "B". They started training clones in medical fields for the purpose of helping keep the troopers alive in combat situations. As a result, Gamma unit's KIAs dropped to nothing, that is before they were deployed to Felucia. CT-02/597 was the head of the four medics assigned to the Gammas. Splint was a Geonosis veteran of Gamma unit and always kept very much to himself. After his retraining, he devoted much of his free time to studying various medical journals to keep up on the latest combat medical procedures. He said it was his way of unwinding. Max just shook his head. He didn't know how anybody could keep their head in a book that long without losing all traces of sanity, and had long ago resigned himself to never finding out.

Max threw his towel over his shoulder and made his way to his bunk. He liked the fact that his men were enjoying themselves, which brought a smile to his face. The war having gone far longer than the Republic had intended had some negative effects on the moral of the armed forces. That is one area where the Seps had an advantage over the clones. A droid couldn't start to get depressed if the conflict went long. The Republic had expected the war to dwindle down to mop up within a year of Geonosis. Little did they know that the Seps had been preparing their forces for a long time and had considerable armies built up by then. Fortunately, Most of the war had reduced to a few major conflicts on and around the inner worlds and a series of sieges in the Outer Rim areas.

The biggest factor that was prolonging the war was finding General Grievous, high commander of the droid armies. He was slipperier than a Dagobah tree slug on a rainy day. Whenever the Republic thought they had pinpointed him, they sent in a fleet big enough to stomp any resistance only to find they had massively outgunned a much smaller fleet with Grievous nowhere to be seen. On the flip side of that credit, he would always turn up wherever the Republic hadn't sent enough manpower to catch him, and he'd escape. It was a perplexing pursuit at best, but he was running out of places to hide.

Max sat down on his bunk and looked at the duty roster for the week. The Gammas weren't slated to be up for anything for two days. The rest of the week was jammed, but they would enjoy the two days they would get.

Deuce hung his head down from the bunk above, "I already checked it, sir, and I like what I see."

Max nodded, "Me, too. In fact, I'm thinking of slipping into the officer's mess tonight and getting something to have some fun with."

Deuce's eyebrow's lowered, "You're not thinking of stealing some of the commander's food again, are you?"

Max smiled, "Entertaining the thought." He yawned, "Right now, though, I'd rather just get some rest. You got the deck. Wake me up if the planet explodes."

Deuce nodded, "You'll be the first to know."

Max threw his feet up on his bunk and laid his head back. He was asleep before he even hit the pillow. He woke up at his usual rouse time ten hours later and was feeling all the better for it. He rolled out of bed and went to the showers. After cleaning up, Max threw on an orange duty jump suit and went about his business of making sure his men were enjoying their time off. He went to a table to find four of his Gammas starting up a game of saabac. 89 dealt out the cards and everyone looked at their hand. The deck shifted and everything got interesting. 48 folded right off the rip, and with good reason, the hand he had. 60 and 25 both hit for another card. This was going to get fun.

Just as the game was getting interesting, Max heard his number called out from the door. He turned to see Commander Bly standing there. Max never liked being summoned by his superiors unless he knew it was for a good reason. He left the saabac table and stood before the commander.

Bly handed him a data disk, "Transfer orders. You need to be ready to go in four hours." Without another word, the commander turned and left the barracks.

Deuce and Ears came up behind him, "What's that, Max?"

Without response, Max popped the disk into the terminal and activated the play back. The briefing was just that, brief. It gave a quick history about an unsuccessful attack on Coruscant and a failed attempt to kidnap the Chancellor. It also stated that Count Dooku, another influential leader in the Sep forces, had been killed. The mission briefing stated that General Obi-wan Kenobi had discovered where Gen. Grievous was hiding and was amassing an army to take the planet. He specifically requested that the best of the 212th be there, and command could think of none better than Gamma unit. The Gammas were to get into the shuttle bound for Coruscant and rendezvous with the Jedi there.

Max looked up from the monitor and stared at the wall. This was both a blessing and a curse. It meant that the Gammas were finally being pulled out of this mud hole, but it also meant they were going to see some pretty hot action in the days to come. He turned around to face his men.

"Gammas, listen up!" He gave them a moment to quiet down. Every head in the barracks turned toward him and silently waited for what he had to say. Once everyone was quiet, Max broke the news.

"I'm sorry to say that our break time has been cut short. On the bright side, its because we're rotating out of here." The whole of Gamma unit erupted into celebration. Any clone birthed from a pod was glad to put his back to this planet, but Max hadn't finished what he was saying.

"Hold on! Hold on!…" Everyone stopped celebrating and looked at their lieutenant quizzically.

"We're being transferred out because we've been called upon by Gen. Obi-wan Kenobi for a very important mission. He's found Grievous, and we're gonna help him get him."

The entire barracks was silent as a tomb. Grievous was the biggest target remaining in the Separatist command structure. He goes down, so does the rest. Grievous was a brilliant tactician and brave warrior, but he was also personally defending the entire Separatist Council. That meant that he probably had several armies of battle droids surrounding him. Everyone had right to be a little apprehensive.

Max finished up, "Everyone kill what you're doing and be ready to lift from this rock in three hours. Anyone not ready in that time pulls double shift." The clones' goods consisted of two duty uniforms, their armor, weapons, specialty-related devices, and a few personal knickknacks here and there. With that small of a packing list, anyone not ready to go in _one_ hour was blatantly disregarding orders and deserved what he got.

Max went to his bunk to start gathering his things, but was sidetracked when he saw his charm of memory on the head board. In recent months at the behest of the Jedi Generals, the clones were allowed to have a few personal possessions. He sat down on the bunk and pushed the button on top to start the playback. The charm's holoprojector storage had stills in it from their training days and the beginning of the war up to the present. His charm of moment had been a very busy little device in their off hours. Max paused the playback on a still with him and Zalma Far back on Kamino. Max was just a boy then, so to speak. He looked at the image of the teacher and friend he had back on his birth world and silently wondered if he would ever see him again. The playback continued parading through his life and the history of Gamma unit. Images from Kamino, Geonosis, the _Prosecutor_, Eriadu, Tatooine, Mygeeto, and most recently Felucia. Max paused the playback again on a still that had him, Snipes, Deuce, and Sensors all clustered together, smiling like there was nothing on their minds other than having fun, like there was no war. Max's jaw clenched. Not a day went by that he didn't miss his old pod brother, Sensors. Sensor's death two years ago served as a spur for Max: the sooner he could help end this war, the sooner he can stop watching his fellow soldiers and friends die. The playback continued, flooding more and more memories to Max's mind, before it cycled around to the beginning. Max look at his chrono. The last thirty five minutes had up and gone without so much as a whisper.

Deuce hung his head over his bunk and looked at his superior for a long moment. He finally broke the silence, "You alright, sir?"

Max took one long last wistful look at a still with Zalma in it, then turned the charm off and answered his XO, "Fine. Just got a little nostalgic for a bit there. You all packed up?"

"Getting there. Just wanted to make sure _you_ were going to start packing. Force forbid the man who issued the order not follow it."

Max nodded, "Suppose you're right. Finish packing and make sure everyone else is, too. I want to be ready before the shuttle is."

"As ordered." Deuce saluted Max and swung his head back up on his bunk.


	11. Chapter 11

Accommodations aboard the _Inquisitor_ were a good deal roomier than the _Acclamator_ assault ships the Gammas had been on. The _Inquisitor_ was a _Venerator_ class Star Destroyer. Whereas the assault ships had the firepower to hold their own in space, they were more focused toward planetary bombardment then space combat. _Venerators_ were designed to hold the orbit first, then provide orbital bombardment when needed. Not to mention they were substantially larger than _Acclamators_. Max had only been partially correct when he said that their break time was cut short. Even at the hyperspace speeds the _Inquisitor_ was capable of, it would take them a solid thirty eight hours to get to Coruscant from a backwater like Felucia. Their off time hadn't been cut short, just moved.

The whole of Gamma unit was enjoying their off time in the ship barracks. Max just lay on his bunk, working his charm around his neck through his fingers. Grievous had finally been found and now Gen. Kenobi was going in after him. The chances of Grievous escaping all depended upon how reliable the Jedi's intel was and the size of the fleet he was bringing with him. Even if the intel was good or bad, Gen. Kenobi would be bringing a large task force to make sure Grievous couldn't slip through their fingers again. If this mission was successful, what then? Max thought about that for a moment. What happens if they do get Grievous? It would be the beginning of the end of the war. Then what? Without the war, the clones had no more purpose. No more war, no more clone army. What would become of them once peace had been restored? There was no place for them in a peaceful galaxy except as enforcers.

Deuce walked up and squatted down next to Max's bunk, "That look on your face says something's bothering you, sir. What's up?"

Max took a deep breath and stared at the bunk above him, "If we get Grievous, that probably means the end of the war will be on the horizon. After that, what happens to us? We're all soldiers. We have no place in a peaceful galaxy. Not unless the Republic plans on marshal law from now on."

Deuce nodded soberly, "Very true, sir. My question is 'What if the Republic orders the complete disband of the army?'. That means the recyclers for all of us."

"What the Republic orders, we will do." Max finally looked at Deuce, "Even if it means our lives."

Deuce nodded again, "On that note of orders, sir, if the war's winding down, _the_ Order might come through. As you said, we'll have to follow."

Max stared back up at the bunk, "Then I pray to the Force it never does."

The rest of the journey to Coruscant was filled with thought and rest. When they arrived, Max saw just how serious the Republic was about getting Grievous this time. General Kenobi had assembled the entire 212th Sector Army, a fleet of no fewer than six star destroyers. The Jedi had an army big enough to take three starsystems. It was clear that he was intent upon getting him this time. The _Inquisitor_ and the rest of the battle group waited in orbit for about a day before they began to set out for their target. Gen. Kenobi set out ahead of the fleet to do some advance recon.

As they were getting under way was when Max found out where they were headed. The attack force was headed for Utupau, a small rim world of very little strategic importance, a good place to hide. Max did his best to keep him and his men busy on the two day trip out to Utupau. If they kept busy, they wouldn't think about the eventualities that might come from this mission's success. The closer they got to Utupau, the more nervous Max got. He couldn't help the bad feeling that he had about this operation. Something big was going to happen, soon. Twenty hours out from orbit, Gen. Kenobi's fighter returned to the fleet without him in it. His R4 droid relayed a message to the commanders that he'd made contact and will attempt to engage Grievous directly. The clones were free to make their assault however they chose. Battle group commanders and lieutenants, including Max, met to decide tactics. Commander Cody decided that a frontal assault by gunship drop was the best way to go about business. The commanders dismissed to their respective barracks to get their troops ready.

At the meeting, Max noticed a clone who stood off away from everyone, keeping to himself. Max didn't know much about him, but by the insignia on the shoulder patch of his jump suit, Max recognized that he was an ARC. The Advanced Recon Commandoes were a whole different animal than the commandoes and troopers. Having worked with them occasionally before and doing some homework, Max knew that they were as Fett-pure as they come, the only modification being growth acceleration, and that they were trained by Jango Fett himself. He had heard it said by one of the training sergeants back on Kamino that if the Republic wanted a job done, they could send in a hundred clone troopers, four commandoes, or _one_ ARC. Max didn't know his number, but he recognized the way he kept aloof from everyone else and identified the soldier as Stec. They had worked together once or twice in the past. Not much was known about Stec except that he was veteran to several battles that no one should have walked away from. Even though he didn't know why he was here, Max knew this clone was not to be messed with.

Max slowly made his way back to the Gamma barracks. He didn't know why he was so anxious about this mission. Any time he'd had a bad feeling about a mission in the past something always went wrong. Max had learned long ago to trust these gut feelings, and right now, his gut was going crazy. Max walked into the barracks to see his men all laying around waiting. Hype was tinkering with some spare electronic circuitry. Splint had his head buried in another medical data pad. Snipes was cleaning his sniper rifle for the fourth time today. Conner was yakking it up with some of the other men, and Deuce was napping on his bunk. Max looked at them all. If they were in the home stretch of the war, he didn't want to see any more of them die. His voice nearly cracked when he called out to get their attention.

Max pointed to Deuce, "Snipes, you mind waking up Deuce? You could blow up the ship, he'd still be snoring." Snipes tapped Deuce on the shoulder with the butt of his rifle and he came alive.

Max nodded, "Now that I've got your attention, listen up. We are fifteen hours time out of Utupau. We will be going in via gunship drop. Which means, Flip, you're up." Flip was the Gammas best pilot since Geonosis when the Republic had pilots assigned to each platoon.

Flip and the other pilots nodded, "We don't get to take out the 170s, eh?"

Max shook his head, "No, we need the gunships for this op. We'll go with the usual gunship split up, me and the usual group in one, Deuce and his group in the other. The Jedi is presently on the ground on Utupau and will be attempting to engage Grievous directly. That should provide a good distraction for our forces to move in and light some fires. Once we drop in, we burn anything standing in our way."

The Gammas all nodded silently. No psyched-up grunts or cheers. Simple acknowledgement of what they had been told, nothing more. Max walked over to his bunk and started pulling out his armor. He idly wondered if they were actually acknowledging the end. Flip and the other pilots all gathered their gear and headed out of the barracks to prep the gunships for the drop.

The _Inquisitor_ and the battle group arrived in orbit without any complications. There were no Separatist ships around the planet to contend with, probably one of the reasons it was overlooked. All ships started their descent into the atmosphere. This was where it got bumpy. Max and the Gammas were all sitting in the barracks when the ship started to rumble. The turbulence was enough to be unsettling to most soldiers, but Gamma unit had done this so many times by now that most of them could sleep through it. Max held onto his bunk as he felt his stomach start to rise. He already had a bad enough feeling about this mission without the reentry trying to give him air sickness. After several minutes of decent through the planet's atmosphere, the rising feeling in Max's stomach subsided, telling him that they were flying straight and level now. Max waited for it. He counted off the seconds before it came.

The ship's PA system blared loudly, "_Attention! All infantry report immediately to gunship launch bays. This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill. All infantry report immediately to gunship launch bays._"

Max nodded to himself, "Right on time." He stood and looked around at his troopers, "You heard the man. Move, move, move!" The Gammas sprang into action. They all gathered into their squads and started making their way to the launch bays. With practiced movement, the platoon arrived at the launch bay all at the same time and started splitting up into their assigned gunships. Max stood by his gunship and counted the men as they stepped aboard. Once he counted sixteen, including the guys in the ball turrets, he looked over to the next gunship in line. Deuce gave him a thumbs up, meaning he had everyone in his group. Max nodded to him and stepped into his gunship, knowing Deuce would do the same. The doors remained open as he took a seat and set his rifle between his knees. He leaned his head back against the bulkhead and told the bad feeling in his gut to go away. Try as he might, there was something about this mission that just did not sit right with him.

"Something bothering you, sir?"

Max brought his head around to the source of the voice. Snipes had switched seats with the guy next to him so he could talk to his CO.

Max nodded curtly, "I'm fine, Snipes. Never better."

Even though Snipes was wearing a helmet, Max could tell he was frowning, "You're a lousy liar, sir. Something's been bothering you for the last two days. What's going on?"

As Max was opening his mouth to tell him, Flip's voice came over the cabin speakers, "_We're thirty seconds out. Stand by for drop._"

Max slapped the button by his head to close the door on his side and looked at Snipes, "I'll tell you later." Snipes shrugged and sat back to buckle his restraint. Max counted off the remaining seconds until he heard some clanking above. There was a hard shake, then the gunship dropped into freefall. Max held onto the handle next to the door as his guts rose into his throat.

89 let out a whoop from the other end of the cabin, "Ain't no rush like it! Yeah!" Max shook his head. His lead demolitionist may be good with grenades and explosives, but he was undoubtedly crazy to enjoy a hard drop. The gunship fell for about twenty seconds before Flip cranked up the engines and took control. As they began powered forward flight, Max unbuckled his harness and slapped the door button. He moved out of his seat and knelt in the opening, careful not to get caught in the wind. He looked out across the landscape beneath him. Utapau was a fairly arid planet, acres of deserts dotted with spots of vegetation and massive sinkholes. He looked forward to where they were flying. There was a huge sinkhole ahead of them with buildings cropping out of the upper lip.

Max keyed his comm to the cockpit, "Flip, is that big hole in the ground the target area?"

"_Yes, sir. The Utapauan cities are built into the walls of huge sinkholes. That up ahead is Pau City. I'm going to have to get creative to drop you guys off, so be ready._"

Max nodded, "Just as long as we survived the drop, Flip. Lead out." As the gunship formations began angling in on the attack, the forward ranks unleashed a volley of rockets at a series of towers around the perimeter of the hole, presumably communication towers. Max heard a loud thud as he saw a pair of rockets streak away from the gunship and toward the base of a tower. Once all the towers were neutralized, the gunships started lowering down into the sinkhole itself. Max saw that they were headed toward a large covered pavilion that looked for all the galaxy like a giant crustacean's skeleton. Flip hovered the gunship near the pavilion and gently jinked it sideways to within half a meter from the edge, hanging the left wing over the platform.

Flip's voice came over the cabin speakers, "_This is your stop, boys._" Without another word, the troopers started piling out of the gunship and onto the platform. Max chanced a look downward as he hopped out onto the platform and wished he hadn't. He wasn't necessarily afraid of heights, but staring down the throat of a kilometer-long fall would shake anybody up. Once the last of the troopers was out, Max banged twice on the side of the gunship and Flip pulled away, making room for the second gunship. All the troopers on the ground were in a defensive posture, covering all avenues into the area while the rest of the unit unloaded. Once the second gunship was empty, Max banged on the side twice and moved to the front of the formation of men.

He turned around and faced his troops, "All right, gentlemen. We've Seps to burn and we're going to light them up good. That is our mission. If we're going to die here, let's not die with our faces to the ground. Let's get out there and die standing."

Gamma unit let out a psyched-up grunt as Max turned and started running for a street that looked like it led downward. It didn't take long to encounter trouble on the way. The Gammas hadn't gone a hundred meters down the street before they were fired on by droids on a higher catwalk that ran parallel to the road. Max snapped his fist us, then pointed to either side of the road, signaling the unit to take cover. The platoon split down the middle and dove to the sides of the street before returning fire to the catwalk. Though it was a good distance out and up, Max put his rifle to his shoulder and sighted a droid. It was an SBD laying down suppressive fire along with several B1's. He squeezed the trigger and sent a three-round burst toward the SBD. All three shots landed squarely on the droid's chest and caused it to buck. Max kept his sights trained on the droid and squeezed off another burst. The droid bucked under each hit. He continued shooting the droid until it finally took enough damage to go down. By then, the Gammas had taken out the lesser supporting units. Max looked at the group on the other side of the street and made a flat circle in the air with his hand. The unit regrouped and continued down the street. They came to a large hanger platform with a couple of other platoons on it. Commander Cody was easily recognizable among the soldiers. He keyed his command frequency to Max as his unit approached the rest.

Cody gestured to Max as he spoke, "_Grievous and a factory's worth of droids are right below us. Have your men get their rappelling gear ready. We're going to drop down and surprise them._"

Max gave Cody a nod and keyed his comm to his platoon frequency, "Gammas, hooks and lines out. We're rappelling down to the hanger below for a little surprise attack." Max pulled his grappling hook from his belt while the rest of the unit did the same. While he was pulling out his line, he heard a loud metallic thud from below. He didn't know what it was, but it couldn't have been good. He wrapped it around a thick bar at the edge of the platform twice and cinched it. After a couple of reassuring tugs, Max looked around at the rest of troopers. They had all set up their rappelling gear and were standing by for the order. Cody looked around at the men and gave the go signal, and troopers started going over the edge. 89 let out a happy whoop and jumped over first of all the Gammas. Max shook his head again and made a mental note to get his demo expert's head examined, because _something_ was wrong up there for him to enjoy all these acrobatics and extreme stunts. Max set his foot on the edge of the platform and, as he'd done dozens of times by now, stepped off into the air. He rotated mid fall before his line went taught and started feeding out to let him down. Cody was right. There had to be over a hundred droids on this platform. Max swung his rifle around with one hand and sighted a crab droid. He opened up with bursts of automatic fire and kept the droid in check until someone hopped on top of it and fired down into its photoreceptor. Max smiled. It appeared his tactics were becoming popular. He hit the platform and uncoupled his line winch from his belt, leaving it hanging from the upper ledge. He dropped to one knee and started sighting droids as the rest of the platoon hit the metal floor. Once they were all down, he stood and started advancing with the forward line. Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw one of his troopers take a shot and fall. Max snapped up his fist and signaled 89 for a spread of grenades. No ECDs for this run. They were here to break things. The contact man snatched three detonators from his chest strap and tossed them in a spread pattern toward the droids. They landed and rolled toward them, then exploded wildly, taking no fewer than twenty droids out with them. Max snapped two fingers toward the droids, signaling the unit to advance again.

Max stopped firing and looked around. There was no sign of Grievous anywhere on the platform. Were they wrong? Had they missed Grievous again? He took a second look and also noticed that there was no sign of Gen. Kenobi either. If Grievous was here, wherever he had gone, Kenobi would be in hot pursuit. Putting those thoughts aside for now, Max pulled a grenade from his belt and armed it. He counted off three of the five seconds before throwing it hard and high. The device exploded next to a repair gantry and made it lean badly. It fell over, smashing several droids, and making an excellent barricade.

Max pointed at his handiwork, "This is where we hold them, Gammas. Dig in and knock them down." His troops made for the gantry and holed up behind it. It made a perfect battle shield when on its side like this, and Max made a mental note to remember this idea. Gamma platoon fortified their position and continued blasting mechanicals. After over an hour of sustained fighting, the battle for the hanger platform had dwindled down to a couple of minor skirmishes across the area. Max stood up from his cover and looked around. This area was as good as theirs, but the rest of the city still had to be taken. Max set his rifle up on his shoulder and checked his wrist console to see if anything new had come down the line.

"Lead, behind you!" Deuce's voice sounded almost panicked as Max whirled around to be staring down the gun barrels of an entire platoon of battle droids. As he raised his rifle, the droid closest to him was struck by blaster fire, but not from any of the Gammas. With less than a second's delay, the next droid was hit and knocked out. Then the next one, and the next one. One by one, the entire platoon fell to precision and _lightning_ quick blaster fire from above. Max looked to the source to all of a sudden discover that there was a series of catwalks laced across the entire ceiling of the hanger. He silently kicked himself for not noticing that earlier. The droids could have given the Republic forces a nasty headache from up there.

The source of the blaster fire was what looked like an ordinary clone trooper. When he jumped from the catwalk and slid down a hastily set up rappelling line, Max saw that this was no mere trooper. It was Stec, adorned in the armor of a Republic ARC trooper. He was differentiated from the others by an orange pauldron on his left shoulder a matching _kama_ at his waist. He hit the floor and yanked on his line, releasing it from its perch and winding back up into his belt. Stec was more imposing up close. Though no extra marks had been added to shy of an orange "X" across his back and chest, his armor bore testament to countless battles and mission from years before. It looked like standard Phase I armor, but Max knew full well it was just as advanced as his own armor and more.

Stec turned around and looked at Max, "You're welcome."

Max was still awed by the ARC's efficiency, but snapped to when spoken to, "Thanks. I owe you one."

The ARC waved the comment away, "Nothing I haven't heard before. This area secure?"

Max looked around at the hanger behind him, "Mostly, a couple of droids here and there, but mostly mop up." He gestured upward with his rifle, "What about those catwalks."

Stec looked up, "There were probably twenty five, thirty droids up there. It's secure now."

Max's eyes widened, "You secured the catwalks _alone_?"

Stec shrugged, "You sound surprised."

"I am. I've heard of a platoon against thirty droids, but one trooper?"

Stec swung his rifle up onto his shoulder, "That was a vacation. Trust me, I've been in a whole lot worse."

Max just blinked and shook his head. There were the clone troopers, the grinder meat. There were the clone commandoes, the army specialists. Then there were the Advanced Recon Commandoes, the near-invincible one-man armies. Stec hung around while the Gammas went about their duty of maintaining the hanger. Max couldn't help but feel bad. It was their assigned duty to secure the hanger, but he felt that he should be on the front line fighting beside his other brothers. And he couldn't help but wonder if he was keeping everyone back here to avoid watching more of his men die.


	12. Chapter 12

Max walked their area, making sure his men stayed alert. He came to where Splint was kneeling over a trooper, one of the recent "kids". Max walked up behind Splint and looked over his shoulder. The trooper's armor had taken a direct hit to the chest. Max himself had taken a hit during the firefight, but it was a glancing shot that bounced off instead of piercing through, yet another reason he liked the Phase II armor.

Max nudged Splint with his rifle, "He going to be okay?"

The medic replied without looking up, "That all depends on if I shoot him for his whining."

"Venting stress aside, Splint, is he going to live."

Splint nodded, "Yeah, he'll live. He'll just have a nasty scar to brag about later on."

Max turned away and was about to go back to the others when his private comm buzzed. He held up his wrist and looked at the incoming frequency. It was Cody. Odd that he was calling on a secured line instead of the command frequency. Max hit the button and Cody's hologram materialized on his arm.

"_Lieutenant, orders have come down from highest command. Execute Order 66._" The hologram winked out. Max heard an AT-TE main cannon go off in the distance, sounding like thunder accentuating the grave news. This was the moment he'd been dreading for over a year now. Ever since he'd been briefed on Order 66, he had hoped he would never have to carry it out. Order 66 labeled all Jedi as traitors to the Republic and placed a "shoot-to-kill" order on all of them. Max's face went blank behind his helmet. It was the ordered massacre of the Jedi. Even though he didn't want to, Max knew his orders, and knew that he had to carry them out. He walked back to the rest of the platoon. Stec had disappeared and his troopers maintained an alert status.

He opened his comm, "Gammas, let's move. We have new orders. Regroup and follow me." The platoon uprooted from their present position and all took formation behind Max. He hiked them along several hundred meters until they came to a small plaza with a bunch of droids still infesting it. There was a lone Jedi attacking the droids very effectively. Max stopped and silently pointed at the Jedi.

Deuce pushed his way up through the rest to speak with his CO, "Lead, that's a Jedi." Max nodded grimly.

"The Jedi is our target?"

"Yes." Max loaded a fresh power pack into his rifle, "We have orders to shoot to kill."

Deuce stepped in front of Max, "Sir, with all due respect, we can't…"

Max put his rifle to his shoulder and took aim on Deuce's face, "We can't what, trooper? What can't we do?" Everyone took a step back. No one had ever seen the lieutenant and the XO disagree about anything before.

Max lowered his rifle, realizing he was very edgy right now, "We have our orders, soldier. You can either follow them or I can put you down where you stand, but we _have our orders_." Deuce stood there for a long minute. Even though they were wearing helmets, Max could feel Deuce's gaze piercing into his eyes. Max gave him a solemn nod that conveyed that he didn't like it any more that Deuce did.

Deuce continued to stand for a long moment before responding, "Yes, sir." He stepped aside and took his place in formation. By now, the Jedi had taken out all the droids and was walking up to the platoon to see what was going on. Max raised his rifle again. He heard the soft click of rifles butting against plasteel, normally almost inaudible, but seeming deafeningly loud this time as the rest of the Gammas took aim on the Jedi. The Jedi stopped in his tracks and looked at the soldiers with a shocked expression. Forcing himself to do what he really didn't want to do, Max squeezed the trigger. The Jedi raised his lightsaber to deflect shots away. Max's gun was joined by his unit's guns. The Jedi blocked a lot of bolts, but eventually it became too much for him. One shot hit him and distracted him, allowing each subsequent blaster bolt a way through his guard. He fell to the ground under the Gammas' barrage of fire. When they stopped, the Jedi laid there motionless, smoke pouring from numerous blaster wounds.

Max forced himself to unclench his jaw so he could speak, "Deploy defensive! Secure the area!" He snapped out the orders more agitated then usual. Max walked up to the Jedi's body to make sure they were successful. He could see the burned and blackened skin through the holes in his robes. Yet for all the burned flesh, his face hadn't been touched. It showed the Jedi's surprise at being turned on, his stunned features frozen in time. Max noticed the Jedi had a long thin braid of hair from behind his right ear. He didn't know much about the Jedi, but he had only seen this braid on their younger ones, the apprentices. Max gritted his teeth as he felt the unblinking gaze of the Jedi burning into his very being, boring into his soul.

He turned away and addressed the unit, "Gammas, regroup! We're moving back to our post." The unit complied with his angrily barked orders. The Gammas returned to their position in the hanger and stayed there. Max just sat on a cargo crate away from everyone else, thinking. It was their orders. Orders had to be carried out. The Jedi had been deemed a threat to the Republic and needed to be eliminated. That was the part that Max thought made no sense. As far as he knew, the Jedi had done nothing to deserve being called traitors. In fact, everything he'd seen about them while working with them had shown him that treason was the last thing on their minds. They upheld the ideals of the Republic and championed justice and peace. He even went so far as to say that they were the very heart of the Republic itself. Not the Supreme Chancellor, not the Senate, but the Jedi were the thread that held the fabric of the Republic together. Kill the Jedi, and you kill the Republic's soul.

Max stood up and started walking toward the mouth of the hanger. The problem he faced was that it was his orders to kill the Jedi. Order 66 was very clear in stating that no Jedi is allowed to live should the order be given. Well, the order had been given, but following it just simply could not have felt more wrong. Whether he liked it or not, though, Max was bound to his orders by his duty as a soldier.

Out of the corner of his visor, Max noticed some movement on a landing platform far below. It was the platform where it had been confirmed that Gen. Kenobi had killed Grievous and where Grievous' personal starfighter was still located. Max pulled his electrobinoculars from his belt and focused in on the platform. He saw Kenobi, who Cody thought he had eliminated earlier, running toward the fighter. Max stowed his binoculars and rotated the scope on his rifle around to the top. He knelt down and took aim on the Jedi. He was standing still while he waited for the fighter's cockpit to open. Max had the perfect shot. Orders had to be carried out.

Max's finger twitched on the trigger, but he just could not bring himself to pull it. He took aim again and sighted Kenobi again as he slipped into the cockpit. He tried, but he just could not bring himself to do it. Max lowered his rifle as the starfighter rose from the platform and headed away from the city. He stood and started slowly walking back toward his platoon. He had never disobeyed orders before. He could never get himself to defy the will of the Republic. Why did he find it so easy now? More strangely, why did he feel so good about it? He felt rotten that he'd killed that Jedi, and he felt that somehow he'd made up for it in letting Kenobi go. Max shook his head. He didn't know what to think anymore.

Max approached his unit to find that Stec had rejoined them. He was leaning against the gantry, looking very grim. Max was looking to get his mind off of recent events, so he walked up to the ARC.

Max sat down on the crate next to Stec and set his rifle down, "So where'd you disappear to earlier?"

Stec's answer was a long time coming, "Order 66. I had to put down a Jedi Padawan."

Max grimaced. More of the same thing, and apparently Stec felt just as bad about it. That thought led Max to a question.

"Can I ask you something, Stec?"

The clone shrugged, "Sure. Shoot."

Max rubbed his chest plate about where his charm of moment hung, "How have you felt about your orders before, in the past I mean?"

The question brought Stec's head around to look at him, "I really didn't feel much of anything about orders before. Orders had to be carried out. I, like every other clone trooper, was doing my part to preserve the Republic from the Separatist threat."

Max nodded, "What about now?"

"You want my honest answer or what I'd tell an officer?"

Max raised his eyebrows, "How about what you'd tell an officer first."

"My duty binds me to my orders and I will carry them out without question."

Max nodded at the textbook answer, "And the honest answer?"

Stec scoffed, "Lousy. I've never felt worse about killing someone in my life."

Max's eyes widened. It made him feel better to know that he wasn't alone in how he felt about this mess. He noticed Cody walking up to the unit and stood along with everyone else.

Cody jerked his thumb behind him, "We've found the last Jedi that came with us. I need backup taking him out. Let's go." He turned and started walking, expecting his order to be followed. Thus was the moment of decision. Max now had a choice to make. Was he going to follow his orders despite his conscience, or would he make a bold move?

Max reached out and put his hand in Deuce's chest as he tried to walk by, "We're not doing this."

Deuce looked at Max's hand on his chest, then at Max, "Sir?"

The lieutenant shook his head, "We're not doing this. We're not going to follow this order."

Deuce looked back at the others before leaning in closer, "But, sir, why?"

"Because it's wrong. That's why." He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, "You've got a thing for questioning my orders lately, Deuce."

Stec stood up and put a hand on Max's shoulder, "You do realize what you're doing, right?"

Max nodded solemnly. He may very well have been condemning himself to death, but he probably would have killed himself anyway if he continued to murder Jedi. The Gammas were all looking at him, wondering what he would do. He looked to all of them and slowly shook his head, telling them that they would not be carrying out this order. They all started looking between each other and shifting around nervously. They had every right to kill him where he stood, but Max began to see that his troopers' loyalty wasn't as much to the Republic as it was to him.

Cody turned around mid-stride, "Hey, you guys hear me? I need backup. Let's go."

Max shook his head, "We're not going with you, Cody."

The commander's head jerked back in a startled movement. He slowly looked across the ranks of Gamma platoon until his gaze came back to Max.

"Did I hear you correctly, soldier?"

Max nodded, "Yes, Cody, you heard me. We're not following this order."

Cody shook his head as though he were trying to clear it. He obviously couldn't believe what he was hearing. Max could hardly believe he was saying it. Four years ago, he would have shot himself for even thinking these thoughts. He would have, but that was back when the Republic stood for justice and what was right…

…back when the Republic stood for what the Jedi stand for.

Cody pointed an accusing finger at Max, "You had _better_ explain yourself, soldier. _Now!_"

"Nothing to explain, sir. For the record, Gamma unit refuses to carry out Order 66."

Cody stormed up to Max and got in his face, "You _will_ carry out this command, trooper. We have our orders."

Max took a step forward, putting Cody on the defensive, "Our orders are _wrong_, Cody."

"The Jedi are traitors to the Republic. That must be eliminated."

"What proof says they're traitors?" Max let the silence linger before continuing, "The Jedi have done nothing to deserve that title. All of the Jedi you and I have served with have done nothing but help the Republic time and time again. They have led us into battle, fought beside us, _died_ beside us because they _believe_ in the Republic. They believe in everything the Republic once stood for. It's the government-sanctioned slaughter of the Jedi, nothing more. Our orders are wrong," Max poked his finger into Cody's chest, "And you know it, Cody."

Cody stood there fuming, not really knowing how to come back to Max's arguments. He leaned in toward Max and his tone dropped to something akin to a low snarl.

"If you're going through with this, I had _better_ not catch you on that Star Destroyer, mister."

Max nodded to him gruffly, "You won't."

Cody took a step back, "By all rights, I should gun you down where you stand, Max."

Max leaned into Cody's face and mimicked his tone, "Then you'd better be ready to shoot a fellow soldier in the back." Max turned away from Cody and started walking toward the mouth of the hanger, the rest of the Gammas following suit. Cody raised his rifle and took aim at center of mass between Max's shoulder blades.

Stec walked over and wrenched the rifle out of Cody's hands, "We've sold enough of our honor down the black hole already, commander. We're not going to sell any more by killing our brothers in cold blood." Cody looked at him, then watched Max and his unit walk away. He shook his head. Orders had to be carried out.

Max keyed his comm, "Flip, you copy?"

"_Loud and clear, Lead._"

"Lock onto my coordinates for immediate evac. We're getting out of here."

There was a long pause on the line, "_Sir, the evac signal hasn't been called yet._"

Max nodded, "I know. Just come and get us. I'll explain in person." By the time the platoon had arrived at the mouth of the hanger, the gunships were setting down. Flip left control of his gunship to his copilot while Max took him aside to explain the situation. Though unsure of what to do next, Flip and the other three pilots fully supported Max's decision. The Gammas all piled into the gunships and took off away from the city.

Flip leaned back from the cockpit, "Where are we headed, sir?"

Max thought for a long moment. They couldn't go back to any of the Star Destroyers. They would be shot on sight for deserting if any of them showed their faces there. He had to think of some place they could stay while they looked for a way off this planet.

"Are there any other Utapauan cities nearby?"

Flip looked at his console and made some adjustments, "There's a small settlement about a hundred twenty clicks north northwest of here."

Max nodded, "Good as anything at this point. Hopefully, we can stay there until we find a way off this planet." Flip nodded and turned the gunship toward the proper heading with the second gunship following. Max thought while they were in flight. He had a lot to worry about now. Before, the Republic had provided everything they needed. Food, shelter, ammo, weapons, ships, parts, all of it Max had to find a way to acquire without the aid of the Republic now. At the moment, his concern was finding them a safe place to land. They had slept out in the open before, and the gunships had some basic survival supplies they could break into for meals for a couple of days. Right now, he had to find a place to set down and make plans for their new lives apart from the Republic.

"We're coming up on the settlement, Lead." Max made his way to the door and opened it. He leaned out and looked forward. The settlement wasn't entirely built into a sinkhole like Pau City had been. It consisted of a smattering of buildings set up within the eastern wall of the sinkhole, mostly collected around a large tower on the edge. Max stood up and leaned over Flip's shoulder.

He pointed toward the base of the tower, "Put down on that pad there." Flip did as he was ordered and maneuvered toward the landing pad. He swung the gunship in low and brought it to hover over the pad. After gently setting down, Max stepped out the door. Their presence there hadn't seemed to have stirred any attention yet.

Max turned back toward his men who were peeking out of the gunship, "You two, you're with me. The rest of you, hop out and look around. See if you can find the guy in charge around here." The two soldiers Max pointed out joined him and flanked him as he walked. The rest of the unit spread out and started looking around. Max followed a thin path downward toward the base of the tower. When he reached the bottom, he was greeted by several Pau'ans in formal dress, very possibly the people he was looking for.

The lead Pau'an stepped forward and bowed to him, "I am Sarok Rovak, governor of the Tangris Spaceport. How may we be of assistance to you, soldier?"

Max removed his helmet and returned the bow, "Greetings. I'm…" he choked over his next words. He wasn't with the Republic anymore, so using his designator number would have little meaning now. Thankfully to the Jedi, he had another name he could go by.

"…Max. My men and I are in need of a place to stay for a while. Do you have any empty warehouses or abandoned homes we could use for a few days? It would just be until we find passage off world."

The governor looked to one of his aids briefly, then back at Max, "I was unaware that the Republic was quartering its soldiers in civilian homes now."

Max winced, "Well…My men and I…We're not with the Republic anymore."

The Pau'an took a step back, "Unthinkable. Clone soldiers who have left the Republic? I've never heard of such a thing."

Max nodded grimly, "Yes. We were forced to desert. Long story. But back to my question. Do you have any place we can stay?" Max thought for a moment and remembered something he had forgotten earlier, "We don't have any money, but we will repay you for use of your facilities…somehow."

The governor looked like he was thinking for a minute. He smiled when it looked like he came up with an idea.

"You are independent soldiers now, yes?"

Max shrugged, "Well, yeah, I guess that's what you could call us."

Governor Rovak motioned for Max to walk with him. Max looked to his men and jerked his head back toward the gunships. As they left to join the others, Max began walking with the governor.

"There is a small matter that perhaps you can help us with. You see, we are a small establishment, barely four hundred citizens, and our security forces are minimal at best."

Max nodded, "What are you getting at?"

The Pau'an smiled, "Straight to the point, just like a soldier. I like that. My point, there is a small pirate base nearby that has been causing no end of trouble for our incoming and outgoing ships. We don't have enough soldiers of our own to deal with the problem and we're too far away from any other settlements to easily request their help."

Max nodded slowly as the pieces came together, "And you want us to deal with them for you. Is that right?"

The Pau'an official stopped walking and turned to face him, "You would be giving us such a great service. We will pay you handsomely for your efforts, not just in housing, but credits, as well. And more should you accomplish something else for us."

Max raised his eyebrows, "And that being?"

"We lost an extremely valuable shipment of hyperdrive motivators in the last raid. If you can get those back for us, we'll gladly pay you double what the shipment is worth."

Max's eyes widened and he saw credit signs. He didn't know much about starship parts, but he did know that hyperdrive components were usually on the higher end of the price range.

Max nodded to Governor Rovak, "We'll get underway immediately."

The governor bowed to Max, "Your haste in dealing with this matter would be most appreciated." Max returned the bow and turned to head back to the landing platform. He donned his helmet and keyed his comm to Deuce's frequency.

"Deuce, this is Lead. Come back."

"_Deuce here. What's up, Lead?_"

"Gather everyone into the gunships and be ready to dust off by the time I get there."

"_So we're pulling out of here?_"

Max smiled, "Better. We have a mission. I'll explain when I get there. Lead out."

Max got to the landing pad to find Deuce waiting for him at the top of the path and all of his men packed into the gunships. When Max explained the situation to Deuce, he really didn't know what to make of it.

Deuce scratched the top of his helmet, "I still don't get it. These are orders that we don't have to follow if we don't want to?" Obviously, the concept of a paid job was as foreign to him as it was to Max.

Max nodded, "We're not doing this out of duty anymore, Deuce. I think those days are gone. If we do this, we'll be rewarded with a sum of money, and more." Max put a hand on Deuce's shoulder, "We really are on our own now, Deuce. No one has command over us now, not even the Republic. Now, we have a choice of whether or not we take a mission. If we help these people out, they'll help us out in return." Deuce shook his head, still not quite grasping it, "I know it's a lot to take in, but just trust me for now. Let's go." The two climbed into their respective gunships and dusted off. Max personally contacted the spaceport communication center to get the location of the pirate base. He sent the coordinates to Flip and he vectored them toward the area. A five-minute flight later, a small facility came into view.

Max leaned over Flip's shoulder, "That it there?"

Flip looked over his console, "It's not in any Republic registry, so I'd say we found it." Max moved to the door and leaned out to get a good look at the target area. He pulled out his electrobinoculars and panned them across the base. There were some basic defenses, a couple of turrets scattered around the perimeter and a large AA turret on the roof of the larger building. Max could see pirates all around the base, apparently unaware of a pair of ex-Republic gunships inbound to ruin their day.

Max lowered his binoculars and opened his unit-wide channel, "Listen up, Gammas. We are rapidly closing on our objective, a pirate base that's been harassing the local spaceport. If we take it out, the spaceport will reward our efforts. We're going to knock down the pirates and search the base. Stand by for hot drop. Lead out." He went back to leaning over Flip's shoulder, "Smoke that turret and pull the rest of the base's teeth."

Flip nodded, "Roger that." He opened a channel to the other pilots, "AA turret up ahead. Wild Mynock attack pattern. Go." Flip pushed the throttle and accelerated the gunship toward the turret, letting the other gunship fall behind. As they closed on the base, it suddenly came alive with activity. The pirates started running every which direction and the base's turrets started to come online. The AA turret turned to track the gunship and opened up with a burst of heavy laser fire. Flip jerked the yoke and threw the gunship sideways through the air. The laser blasts missing by several meters. He vectored straight toward the turret and began an evasive pattern of maneuvers to avoid its fire. Within about four hundred meters, he pulled back and the stick and away from the turret. As they flew over it, Max heard a pair of explosions and looked out the door to see that the second gunship had successfully eliminated the turret with precision rocket fire. The Wild Mynock attack pattern was when one gunship drew the AA fire from the target while the other hung back and took out the source.

Max leaned over toward Flip, "Be sparing with the rockets. We can't replace them that easily anymore."

Flip pulled the gunship around in a tight turn and came at the base with a pair of ground turrets at an angle. The ball turret gunner on that side unleashed a series of beam shots that carved one turret to pieces and heavily damaged the other. Flip vectored toward another turret and fired the forward cannons. They were anti-personnel guns, but they were powerful, and sustained fire could knock out light vehicles. The green laser fire spackled against the base of the turret and sparks shot from different points before it exploded. Flip turned aside and let a ball turret finish it off.

Max looked around over the base as they shot by. All but one ground turret was gone, and Deuce's gunship was in the process of remedying that. He identified a good landing spot and pointed it out to Flip. He silently nodded and vectored around toward it. He brought the gunship to hover over the area and started a slow spin as they descended. The spin allowed the ball turret gunners to knock out threats and clear the LZ for the troops. They came within a meter of the pavement and Max jumped out with rifle ready, quickly followed by the rapid deployment of the rest of his group. He crouched to one knee and took aim on a group of pirates with rifles who were running their way. He squeezed off a three round burst and landed it squarely in the lead pirate's chest, dropping him dead on the ground. As two more fell to the other Gammas' fire, the group stopped and looked at their fallen comrades. They hesitated before moving to a large crate for cover. Max had to remind himself that these pirates were living targets. They could be cunning and adaptive, but that also means they were subject to other things such as fear and panic. Droids wouldn't break under fire, but these pirates might.

He looked back at 89, "Con, give me a thermal behind that position." The demo expert pulled the grenade and tossed it, landing it with practiced accuracy less then a meter behind the pirates' position. The explosive went off and took out the rest of the group. The remainder of the platoon had landed by now and the gunships were providing close air support. They secured the landing area and moved across the tarmac to clear out the rest of the pirates who hadn't taken shelter in one of the buildings. As they progressed across the tarmac, Max looked toward the ships on the pads. There were six fighters on the landing pads, probably waiting to attack the next luckless freighter. One of the fighters had a pirate in the cockpit and was powering up.

Max looked to Snipes and pointed at the fighter, "Snipes, put him down." The sniper knelt down and put his rifle to his shoulder. He zeroed his aim on the pirate's head as the canopy was closing. Several laser blasts flew within centimeters of Snipes' head as he took aim, but he didn't flinch. He squeezed the trigger and slid the bright beam through the six centimeter gap between the canopy and the seal. The pirate slumped down in the seat, a precise hole shot through his neck.

Max looked at the rest of the unit, "Second squad, secure this area. Third and fourth squads, clean out those buildings. First squad, with me." He took off toward a cargo loading area. If that shipment of hyperdrive motivators was anywhere on this base, this would be the first place to start looking. Unfortunately, the two segmented rows of stacked crates made the area rife for an ambush. Max and first squad proceeded down the lane at a cautious pace. They checked every direction at the intersections and moved in a backs-in circle to cover their six. As they came to one intersection, suddenly a pair of grenades was tossed into the middle from both left and right.

"Fall back!" Max turned and dove as the grenades exploded where he'd just been. He rolled over onto his back with rifle ready to see about a dozen pirates coming from the left and right lanes. He raised his rifle and snapshot one in the face before rolling to one side as a series of blaster bolts speckled the ground where he was just laying. Hype helped Max to his feet while the others provided cover. With concentrated fire, first squad took out all twelve pirates without serious casualty. They investigated the rest of the area and made sure it was secure before Max had them start searching crates.

Max looked at his arm console, "The crate's serial number is 114432785687. Find me that crate on the double." Max's comm buzzed with Deuce's frequency and he answered it.

"_Lead, we've secured the structures. All pirates confirmed eliminated._"

Max nodded, "Any casualties?"

"_52 lost a bicep cuff off his armor to blaster fire, but no injury. Other than that, nothing._"

"Copy that. Have the crypts start scouring all the computers for anything useful. If they have anything that will be of use in the future, I want it. And have them check the supply logs, too. I want to get all the weapons and ammo we can fit into the gunships."

"_Yes, sir_."

"Uh, sir? I think you want to see this." Hype got Max's attention from behind him.

Max turned and walked to the crate Hype was looking in. He checked the number on the side and found that it matched the serial number he'd been given.

"Well, what is it, Hype?" Max answered his own question when he looked into the crate. The shipment of hyperdrive motivators wasn't just any shipment. These units were brand spanking new and looked high end.

Max pointed into the crate and looked at his chief crypt, "You know how much these are worth by chance?"

Hype just stared into the crate, "I don't know numbers, but I can tell these are Class 1's. Very pricey."

Max smiled, "Well, it looks like we just netted ourselves a fairly large sum of credits."

Hype finally looked at Max, "Sir, this is only one crate."

Max furrowed his brow, "What do you mean 'one crate'?"

Hype motioned to the row of crates, "I've checked this whole row, sir. This is one of ten crates. That's a shipment number, not a crate number."

Max's jaw dropped. They just found _ten_ crates of hyperdrive motivators, all of them top of the line with a price tag to match, and the Tangris governor was paying them _twice_ what the shipment was worth. Max felt light-headed and staggered as the thought of all that money swirled around in his head. Not to mention, the Gammas had just killed off the owners of this entire base. Anything they wanted, ships, weapons, parts, ammo, was theirs for the taking. He leaned on the crate to regain his balance. The thought of going from dirt-floor broke to king's-ransom rich was a lot to take in at once.

Max choked on his words for a minute before he could speak, "Call Flip. Get him over here right away." After Hype made the call, Flip brought the gunship to hover over the lane where the motivators were and lowered the winch. The gunships and first squad started the slow but worthwhile process of loading and transporting the crates of motivators back to the spaceport. Max walked out of the cargo loading area shaking his head. He liked the idea of all the money, but it was just too easy. These pirates were barely trained and posed almost no threat or challenge. Half the time, they panicked when they saw a few men die. Max almost felt sorry for the poor sods they'd just sent to meet their makers. Almost.

When Max noticed Deuce walking toward him, he met him in the middle and returned his salute. Even though Max couldn't see his face, he could hear through the speakers that Deuce was smiling.

"Sir, I have some very good new for you."

"Well, spit it out, soldier. I'm all ears for good news."

Deuce started walking and Max fell in step, "I think I could explain best if I showed you. This way." He brought Max to the landing pads and pointed out the ships that were sitting there.

"These pirates may have been lousy at fighting, but they had some darn good engineers. This was their primary ship. She's a Gozanti Cruiser, but she's anything but stock. They've removed about fifty tons of cargo space to make room for a spacious hanger, which allows those Cutlass-9's to operate from her as well as other ships. From what Sparks has seen, he thinks they wired the whole thing up from stem to stern with a specialized automation system that reduces the minimum crew to about three. To sweeten the deal, they've added nine pairs of heavy laser cannons across the ship, three turbolaser batteries located fore, starboard, and port, three quad cannon turrets dorsal and ventral, and a proton torpedo launcher in the bow. Not to mention they moved the sensor array into the bow, added a high-rate military grade shield system, reinforced the hull with armor and internal supports, and completely replaced the engines with salvaged _Acclamator_ engines." Deuce crossed his arms as he looked at the ship, "She's a beast."

Max nodded at the litany of upgrades the vessel had undergone. No doubt, they were highly illegal, but then so were the Gammas themselves, so that really didn't matter.

"What did they call her?"

Max heard a suppressed snicker in Deuce's reply, "The _Lady's Nerf Herder_."

Max lifted his helmet slightly and bit his knuckle to keep from laughing. It was no small wonder they needed all that firepower, because the name certainly wasn't threatening.

"Well, that'll be the first thing to go." He pointed to the fighters, "What about them?"

Deuce turned to face the fighters, "Six Cutlass-9 patrol fighters, also highly modified. The two stock cannons have been replaced with four more powerful cannons. The shields have been rewired to include low-output power boosters. To top it all off, the proton torpedo launchers have been…'fiddled with' to increase their capacity by two torpedoes each. They're a little slower than your average Cutlass-9, but that's due to the extra mass. Fairly impressive for a bunch of thugs, I'd say."

Max nodded at the notable engineering and looked at his XO, "And it's all ours for the taking."

Max could tell there was a big beaming grin behind Deuce's faceplate, "Yes, sir."

He looked at the cargo ship turned assault cruiser. As he thought about any possible use for the vessel, plans for their new lives began to take shape in his mind.

"Got a question for you, Deuce."

Deuce shrugged, "Shoot."

Max looked at him, "How do you feel about the title 'mercenary'?"

Deuce looked at his CO quizzically, "I don't quite follow, sir."

Max turned to face him, "Think about it, Deuce. The governor of Tangris is about to drop a healthy chunk of change in our laps. We don't have the support of the Republic to give us what we need anymore, so we need to fend for ourselves and find some means of livelihood. The only thing we know is how to be soldiers, so why not put that to good use. I know for a fact that there's a market for professional soldiers out there. Who better than us?"

Deuce crossed his arms and cocked his head, "So instead of fighting for the Republic, we fight for money? That's a little low, don't you think?"

Max shrugged, "It worked for Fett."

Deuce lowered his gaze and thought for a minute. After what felt like a long time, he looked up at Max.

"We'll need a name."

Max furrowed his brow, "I think we'll have to use our old one until we can think of something better."

"The Gammas." Deuce rolled it all around in his head, "It'll work."

Max clapped Deuce on the shoulder, "The galaxy will never know what hit it. Get Flip back here. I have a meeting with a very rich governor."

Max hitched a ride on the next gunship that was headed to the spaceport with another crate of hyperdrive motivators. When he met the governor, he thanked Max up and down for removing the threat of the pirates. Since the Gammas didn't have their own spending account, the Pau'ans paid them with a large box loaded full of credit chips. Max thanked them for the reward and made a mental note to get a spending account to stash it all in. In the meantime, he had plans for this money. He would need to buy food to feed his soldiers for several months, additional rockets for the gunships, ammo for their weapons, along with a myriad of other things. The Gammas could stay at the former pirate base until they were ready to take their new ship and leave the system. He knew he would have to put some thought into a new permanent home base, somewhere preferably where the Republic, or the Empire as it was now, couldn't find them. Max loaded the box of credit chips onto the gunship and sat down in the seat next to it. He opened the box and picked up one of the chips, working it around in his fingers. For their new lives as mercenaries and soldiers for hire, they were off to a good start.

Max hopped off the gunship when he arrived and went into the ship. He stepped up the boarding ramp to find his engineers, pilots, and several soldiers hard at work prepping the ship to leave. He stepped in and brought the box to the bridge. When he arrived at the bridge, Max found Sparks, his lead engineer, running around like his hair was on fire. Max set the box down and leaned over Sparks' shoulder when he was sitting still.

"So, will she fly?"

Sparks looked up at Max with a start and went back to what he was doing, "Oh, she'll fly. Only problem is figuring out how. These pirates have a specialized remote automation system that cuts down crew requirements, but it means I have to figure out what systems are wired to do what." A spark shot from the panel he was working on and he cursed, "Right now, I just need to figure out how to get the main start up sequence going."

Max shifted his weight and leaned on a bulkhead behind him. His back slid down on the metal until it hit something. Max looked behind him to see that he was hitting buttons. He turned and looked at a large green button that looked out of place. He pressed the button, which depressed with a loud snap. The panel he was looking at started to light up. Max looked around the bridge as consoles activated and lights came on.

Sparks looked around as everything started up, then to Max, "Hey, what'd you do?"

Max motioned to the panel behind him, "I just pressed this button on this console."

Sparks stood up and walked over to the console, "There's a whole other panel back here? That's why I couldn't start it up." He moved and checked several other panels, "We're good to go whenever you are, sir."

Max nodded, "Excellent." He keyed in Deuce's frequency, "Deuce, come back."

"_You got me, Lead. What's up?_"

"Have everyone start loading whatever the hold can carry into the ship. Whatever we can't use, we can sell. We're going to be ready to go soon." Max and Deuce spent the next several hours monitoring everything that was being loaded into the ship's hold. Max made sure the fighters and gunships were brought to the hanger while Deuce determined what cargo they could and couldn't use. It was well into the night by the time everything was loaded up and the Gammas were all exhausted from a day of fighting and working.

Deuce came up beside Max as the Gammas piled into their new ship, "You got a new name for her yet, sir?"

Max thought for a moment. He hadn't really been putting much thought into it. A name did come to his mind, and Max liked it for how applicable it was.

"The _Renegade_."

Deuce nodded, "_Renegade_, huh? I like it. Has a nice ring to it."

Max walked into the bridge to find a pair of pilots and several engineers manning all the stations. Max removed his helmet and set it on a nearby console before moving to the seat in the center of the bridge. He took the seat and looked down at Flip in one of the pilot's seats.

"You think you can handle this bucket?"

Flip regarded Max over his shoulder, "It's not quite as maneuverable as what I'm used to, but I'll adjust."

Max took a deep breath and let it out, "Then give her some power and lift off."

Flip powered up the engines and pushed the throttle bars forward. A low rumble could be felt throughout the ship as it began to rise into the air. Once the landing gear was retracted, Flip gave it some more throttle and picked up speed. They circled the pirate base and prepared to angle out of the area when Max got an idea.

"Prep the weapon systems."

The trooper at the weapons console flipped some switches before responding, "Weapons online, sir."

Max nodded toward the pirate base, "Fire on those buildings. We need to finish the job of removing this base, and I want to see how sharp her teeth are."

Max's order was rewarded with seeing the fore turbolaser battery open up on the closest building. The powerful blast slammed into the base of the structure and collapse one corner. The quad cannons joined the turbolaser and started knocking off chunks of the building. Within moments, the building was reduced to rubble. The process was repeated on the other structure with more efficiency as the trooper got the hang of the weapon system. They leveled both buildings, leaving a smoking pile of debris and rubble in their places.

Max nodded, very satisfied at what he'd seen, "I like her. All right, Flip. Get us out of here." Flip nodded and broke their circle around what was left of the base. He vectored the cruiser away and gently angled her up toward space. Within a short time, the atmosphere disappeared and the stars shone brightly in the forward viewports. Max looked around at his men. This time yesterday, they were faithful soldiers of the Republic, willing to lay down their lives for a cause they had no stake in. Today, they were soldiers of fortune, dogs of war who would fight for whoever could provide them payment in return. It wasn't much, but it was something, and it was a far shot better than serving an Empire that boasted the destruction of the Jedi as its crowning achievement. Max sat back in his seat, satisfied with the decision he'd made and proud of his men for the stance they'd taken with him, but it still wasn't quite enough. Max stood from the chair and left the bridge to make preparations for something that would finalize this choice they had made.


	13. Chapter 13

Max paced the hanger floor in front of his men. He'd called them all to the hanger in full armor for a specific purpose. The only ones not present were Flip and two of his pilots to man the bridge. Everyone else was here, standing in formation at parade rest in the hanger. The hanger was set up with a keel opening bay, meaning a ship would have to fly up to get in, and then level to land. Max came to a stop in front of the center of the formation and turned to look at his men.

"Gammas, listen up!" Every head in the room snapped up to listen. Max had a line open to the bridge so Flip and his men could hear.

"I've called you all here for a very specific purpose. As you well know, we are no longer soldiers of the Republic, or excuse me, the Empire. We renounced that cause the day Order 66 was given. We now fight for ourselves, for the highest bidder, and I'm very proud of you all for taking your stand with me. But is it enough? Will this decision keep us from having thoughts of returning to the Empire? Will we have second thoughts about this stand we've taken? I will tell you here and now that I do not know what is in our future. I don't know how long we will last on our own, but I will tell you that I know this: we will last as long as we can as long as we continue to act as we have in the past, as a unit. We are brothers, each a piece of the same person. We are a platoon, acting cohesively as a single unit to accomplish an objective. But most of all, we are all that each other has. So I want us to do something that will finalize the decision we've made and the stand we've taken." Max held up a small device no bigger than his thumb for all to see, "This is my helmet transponder. This is what allowed the Republic to know my every move, and allows the Empire to do the same. I have removed it and am going to put it in this box you see next to me. Everyone who is standing by me in this decision, I want you to remove your helmet transponders and place them in this box. Before you do, however, I'm putting a condition on this. This is not an order. If you guys do this, I want you to do it out of your own free will. You have it, and just need to learn how to exercise it. I don't want you to do this because you have to. I want you to do it because you _want_ to. If you don't want to, I will respect your decision and drop you off on the nearest Imperial world. When we're done here, we are going to eject this box into space, taking the transponders with it." Max dropped the device in the box next to his boot, "All willing to stand with me, removed your transponders now."

Max took several steps away from the box and waited to see what would happen. He knew what this meant. They all knew what this meant. If they removed their helmet transponders, they were _officially_ declaring their independence from the Empire. They were burning their bridges. There would be no going back after this. Max fully expected some of his men to not go through with this.

Deuce quickly stepped forward and removed his helmet. He pulled the transponder out and dropped it into the box with Max's before returning to his position in line. Max nodded to himself. If anyone came through, he would have expected Deuce. Everyone stood there for a long time, wondering what to do, trying to decide for themselves if they would stand with their lieutenant. Some lowered their heads in thought, others looked at their comrades for insight. After a minute, Snipes stepped forward and removed his helmet transponder. He dropped it in the box and returned to his place. Eyes stepped forward next and followed suit. Ears was next to follow, and Conner was after him. One by one, every member of Gamma platoon present stepped forward and dropped their helmet transponders into the box.

Max's comm buzzed and he tilted his head forward to listen, "Lead here."

"_Lead, it's Flip on the bridge. We're all with you, too. Just send someone up to get our transponders when you can._"

Max nodded, "Roger that. Lead out." He looked at Deuce and jerked his head in the direction of the bridge. The XO figured out what was going on and double-timed it to get their transponders. When he got back, he dropped them into the box with everyone else's and took his place in line. Max looked at the troopers, _his_ troopers, and smiled. A battle-hardened veteran couldn't hold back his tears at seeing his men's loyalty and willingness to see it through to the end with him.

Max choked over his words for a moment, "Thank you all. I'm very proud of everyone of you."

Without Max knowing ahead of time, Deuce spoke up on the comm, "Company, attenhut!" The whole unit cracked to attention, "Full salute!" Every right hand snapped into a salute to their platoon lieutenant, Max. He couldn't hold it back now. Max returned the unit's salute and stripped off his helmet to wipe his eyes, touched by his men's undying devotion not to the Republic, not to the Empire, not to the galaxy, but to him. Max's men had trusted him with their lives a hundred times over and again to his leadership. They would follow him into the plains of Alderaan or the fires of Mustafar. It made no difference to them. He was their leader, and they would die for him if they had to. Max set his helmet down and walked up to Deuce. His XO had been not only a stalwart 2iC and brave soldier, but a good friend. Max extended his hand to Deuce, who promptly took it. Max put his hand on Deuce's shoulder and looked into his featureless faceplate.

"Thank you, Deuce. You've always been there, and I want to thank you."

Deuce nodded nonchalantly, "Of course, I've always been here. I owned this outfit before you did."

Max chuckled at the comment and returned to his position in front of everyone, "Thank you all. Thank you for what you've done, but mostly for what you've allowed me to do. I can't say I've been the best lieutenant you could have had, but I can say that I have done my best. And I can proudly say that all of you have, too. It has been a great honor to command Gamma platoon." Max stood to attention, this time saluting his men. They all snapped into their best salutes to return it and returned to parade rest.

Max nodded, "Now, to your stations everyone. We've all got jobs to do and we need to be doing them. Let's give the galaxy a kick it'll never forget. Dismissed." With a psyched-up grunt from his men, the platoon dispersed to their assigned duties, leaving Max alone in the hanger. Max looked down at the box full of helmet transponders. He knelt down and sealed it up, then walked over to the hanger's eight by ten meter opening. He looked out into the blackness of space beyond, held back by the magnetic containment field over the opening. Max held the box over the opening and dropkicked it out into the middle. The box slid through the magcon field and floated off to a never ending journey to the stars. Max smiled as he watched the box drift away. The galaxy was in for a surprise it wouldn't soon forget.


	14. Chapter 14

Max laid on the ground with his electrobinoculars in one hand and his rifle in the other, doing his best to remain unseen. Snipes and Hype were on either side of him. Hype was rapidly typing on his portable computer console while Snipes kept his rifle trained on the target area. Max looked through his binoculars to get a better view. The target area was a small Imperial outpost, too remote for any reinforcements to get there before Max's men were done with it. What made this outpost a target was not just that it was Imperial, but it had just received a weapons shipment, a shipment that Max was more than willing to take off the Empire's hands.

He lowered his binoculars and looked back at Hype, "You in yet?"

The slicer didn't look away from the monitor, "I don't see their security mainframe anywhere on the network. It must be a stand alone. I can get the outer doors open, but I'll need to be physically at the terminal to get the base codes."

Max nodded, "Do what you can. Let me know when you've cracked the doors." Max looked forward and keyed his comm to Deuce, "Deuce, come back."

"_You got me, boss._"

"Status on the motor pool?"

"_Those STs are as good as useless. We're on our way back to checkpoint two._"

Max nodded, "Excellent. Lead out."

Hype stowed his computer and readied his rifle, "I've got the doors ready for us. We're good to go."

Max smiled, "Perfect." He keyed up his unit wide channel, "Second and third squad, green light. Move in." He closed his comm and looked back at the rest of first squad, "Let's go, boys." They all stood up and followed Max toward the outpost. The Stormtroopers on patrol, the white-clad, faceless enforcers of the Empire, didn't notice the intruders approaching until it was too late. They saw them and brought their rifles to bear, but not before one was picked of by a long-range shot from Snipes, and the other two fell to combined fire from the squad. They all took up defensive positions at the door and Hype hit a button on his arm console that sent a signal to the door. The lock clicked and the door slid open, allowing them to all file in. They secured the hall and moved through to the next room. Inside, the halls and rooms were all the same boring squared configuration decorated in the same tasteless dark grey. Hype worked his magic on the door and it opened to reveal several surprised Stormtroopers. Conner tossed a grenade into the room before they could react. They pushed into the room and checked the Stormtroopers, making sure they were dead.

Max knelt down next to Hype, "Where's the mainframe from here?"

Hype consulted his arm console and pointed as he spoke, "Through that door and two hallways that way. Expect guards."

Max nodded, "Right. Let's move." The squad moved through the next door and advanced down the hallway. They met up with Deuce's squad at the intersection to the next hallway and pressed on. They came to the room with the outpost's security mainframe and deployed into defensive positions around it. Max stayed on one side of the door with Conner on the other with several men poised to move in. Max nodded to Conner and the demo expert slapped a small charge in the center of the door over the lock. The device went off, destroying the lock and opening the door, and Conner tossed a spread of anti-personnel grenades into the room beyond. After the grenades did their work, Max and several other soldiers moved in to secure the room. The few Stormtroopers that survived the grenades were quickly taken down by precision blaster fire, completing the perfectly executed door breach maneuver.

Max walked through a cloud of smoke left by an explosion and came face to face with a Stormtrooper. The trooper lowered his rifle and swung his elbow at Max. Max ducked underneath the swing, grabbed the trooper's thigh, and heaved upward, throwing the Stormtrooper over his back. The trooper hit the floor and Max kicked him in the head to put him out. He knelt down and pulled the trooper's helmet off, once again not surprised that he wasn't looking at his own face. Not long after the Battle of Utupau, the Empire began active recruiting of natural-borns for its armed forces. They would take DNA samples from the best recruits and start cranking out clones of them. Max and his men were all Fett-pure, but the Imperial army was gradually becoming more and more diverse.

Max stood and walked up behind Hype, who was hard at work doing something clever with the security mainframe.

"What've you got?"

The slicer stared intently at the monitor as his fingers flowed over the keyboards, "They've got a triple-weave encryption locking up all the important data. Give me just a moment…" He typed several more commands into the console and something started beeping, "Got it. I'm downloading the base codes now. I've got a fix on all secure activity in the outpost. The weapons shipment is just below us in the primary storage room on the second floor."

Max nodded, "Good work, Hype. Get what you can from that terminal and make it useless when you're done."

Hype pulled a small data disk from the console, stepped back to shoot it three times, and looked at Max, "I'm done."

Max snickered, "Efficient, as always, Hype. Pack it up. Let's move, gentlemen." The group pulled out of the room and headed for the nearest lift. Two men heaved the doors open while Hype sent a stop order to the lift car. Max, Deuce, and two others hooked up their grapples and descended the shaft to the next floor down.

After examining the door for a moment, Max opened his unit channel, "Rapid descent, boys. Next group, get ready." He set a door charge on the lock and kicked away to the other side of the shaft. The charge went off and the soldiers swung into the room. Max uncoupled his winch and landed in a crouch on the floor. He immediately aimed his rifle down the hall and fired a three-shot burst at the Stormtrooper he saw, hitting him in the chest. They all made their way into the floor in groups of four. Once they were all gathered, they started moving down the rows of storage rooms until they found the one they were looking for. They blew the door open and Conner tossed in a flashbang to pacify the room. They pushed in and took down the guards. Once the room was secure, Max stowed his rifle and walked up to one of the crates. He opened the lid and was pleased to see what he was looking for. There were several rows of E-11 blaster carbines with several cases of ammo. Another crate held a set of R-21 repeaters with appropriate ammunition, as well as two boxes of various grenades.

Max closed the lid as Deuce walked up to him, "You mind telling me how we're getting these things out of here?"

Max pointed to the cargo lift at the other end of the room, "The same way they got them in here. Hype, get to work on that lift. Everyone else, secure this room."

They spent ten minutes moving all three of the crates onto the lift. Max joined them as Hype activated the lift and they started to rise. A door above them opened to reveal the sky as they came up outside the structure.

Max opened his comm channel, "Third squad, move in. Flip, green light. You're clear to attack." The cargo loading area came alive as the guards were attacked from two directions. The guys on the lift opened fire from their position, third squad brought heavy fire from where they were, and Flip and the gunships laid down a suppressive fire pattern around them as they descended on the loading area. The dozen Stormtroopers were taken completely by surprise and fell in moments. Once the area was secure, they rendezvoused with third squad and Flip brought the gunships down to the lift so they could load the crates. They loaded the crates in and piled into the gunships before closing up and heading for orbit.

On the way up to the _Golden Dawn_, Max looked at his mission evaluation on his arm console. He originally thought this would just be a resupply mission, a mission to relieve the Empire of some of the goods they needed. However, the operation turned out to be fairly lucrative, as well. As it turned out, Hype managed to wire out somewhere around ten thousand credits worth of officer payroll while he was fiddling around in the computer system. That chunk of change along with the weapons, all in all, was a decent haul.

Unloading the weapons was an easy task once the gunships docked with the _Dawn_. Max made a direct line for his quarters once they docked to write up all the appropriate logs of the successful mission. He added the ten thousand to their account and looked it over. They had well over a solid million to their name, not to mention the solid assets they owned.

Max leaned back in his chair and looked out the window at the stars. A lot changes in two years. Even more changes in almost twenty years. The Gammas had done very well for themselves during the eighteen years after they deserted the Empire. It didn't take more than two or three jobs for their name to spread amongst the mercenary community. They completed their first few jobs with their usual military efficiency, catching the eye of several higher price clients. It was these clients that also made the mistake of switching the Gamma's name with their ship, but the mistake stuck. Everyone liked the ring of "the Renegades". That and the ship had gone through six names by now entirely due to indecision on everybody's part, having finally settled on the _Golden Dawn_. It didn't take long for the Renegades to be swamped with high price jobs from high profile clients. This was a good problem for a mercenary group, but Max still needed to be careful just how high profile the client was. If he slipped up, it could bring the Empire down on them.

Only in the last couple of years had the last of the Renegades gotten used to the freedom of freelance contracting. Where the modifications they made to their armor and weapons before were limited by regulations, when they cut ties with the Empire, customizing took on a whole new view. Whereas most of them simply changed the color and removed a piece here and there to make it more comfortable, there were those who went completely overboard with customization. Conner, for example, had painted his armor completely black with detailed orange and yellow flames on the gauntlets, torso, and boots. Deuce colored his armor a dark blue with a bone white skull and crossbones on the chest, a design which took Max by surprise given his XO's normally reserved manner. Splint had all the medics go with a dusty gold with a big red medical cross on the front and back of their chestplates for quick identification. Max had removed the bicep cuffs and cod piece of his own armor to make it more comfortable. Besides the traditional Republic grey with maroon shoulder bells and stripes on the thigh cuffs, the most visible modification was his helmet. Not long ago, he'd taken a fusion cutter to the faceplate and removed most of it, leaving only the parts that protected his cheeks and jaw line. He replaced it with a curved, one-way mirror visor that was essentially a slightly larger version of the "T" visor on Phase I armor. It greatly expanded his field of vision and worked well with the helmet HUD. To top off the ensemble, he'd added a jetpack for long jumps and quick escapes. The varying looks of their now individualized armor was often cause for some to mistake them for a Mandalorian splinter group. Though he missed his days in the Republic where they had a cause to fight for, Max couldn't say that he didn't like the liberty of freelance contracting.

Max leaned his chair back and kicked his feet up on his desk to catch a nap. He awoke to the lurch of dropping out of hyperspace a few hours later. He looked out the window to see the jungle covered world of Felucia beneath them. About a year after they deserted, the Renegades moved into an abandoned Republic facility on Felucia, formerly Outpost 18 ironically. They knew it was the last place the Empire would look for them. A shield generator and a series of auto turrets kept the local wildlife from tearing the place apart when they weren't around. Max rose from his seat and headed toward the bridge as the ship dropped down into the moist atmosphere.

Max walked down the thin hallways that the Renegades had taken the time to paint up with a traditional Republic maroon and grey scheme, much like the rest of the ship. As he made his way to the bridge, he walked by two of his men as they talked to each other. Max could only hear part of the conversation as he walked by, but what he heard was enough to unsettle him.

"…about how 48 got iced last week. I heard it was an ambush. Twenty or thirty stormies just sprung out of nowhere."

"Yeah, and with 96 buying it last month, that puts us two more down. Maybe we should talk to…"

Max clenched his jaw at the reminder of two of his men's deaths. He put it aside for now as he stepped onto the bridge. Deuce was in the chair, making sure things ran smoothly as always, Flip and one of his pilots were manning the nav boards, and Sparks was at the engineering console making sure nobody tampered with his precious adjustments. Deuce looked back and immediately vacated the chair at seeing Max walk in. He didn't bother sitting, just leaning on the back as he watched the thick jungle canopy roll on beneath them through the forward viewport. The corners of Max's mouth turned up in a slight smile. He remembered being stationed here back in his Republic days, and how much he hated it. He swore he would never come back to this Force-forsaken planet if he could help it. Now, it was one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy.

The base came into view on the horizon, the glow of the base shield illuminating it through the fog. Max leaned over the back of the chair and punched his command code into the console on the arm. He transmitted the code and a moment later the shield dropped. Flip brought the _Dawn_ down on the pad with practiced skill and the Renegades started getting up to get the weapon crates from the cargo bay. Max left Deuce in charge and left the ship for his quarters. He walked into the command center, actually a comms center that had been refurbished for command purposes, and the lights flickered on at detecting his presence. He looked around as the monitors and consoles in the room came to life and shook his head. It was starting to get a little dirty. The remains of someone's last meal were sitting at the comms console and somebody left their helmet at the sensor board. Max made a mental note to check the duty rosters for the command center from before they left on their last job and meet out the appropriate disciplines while he walked through the room to his quarters. They may be civilians now, but Max continued to run the Renegades with strict military discipline.

Max found his door a little ways down a nearby hallway, formerly Commander Bly's quarters. He punched in his code and stepped through the door when it opened. Max took in the room at a glance and shook his head again. He'd left several sets of dirty clothing lying around on the floor and his bed wasn't made. He was half tempted to drop and give himself fifty right there if he didn't have so much to do.

After tidying up the room some, Max walked into his office and sat down in his chair. The commander's desk that came with the quarters he'd been stuck with was matte black and big enough to land a small cargo ship on. Very unlike his usually clean self, the top of the huge desk was cluttered with datapads and sheaves of notes and paper, most of it being job opportunities he had yet to sort out. He waded his way through the paper to find his desk console and pushed the button to raise the monitor. The console blinked to life, showing a list of all the job requests various clients had sent to his mail account. Max slowly scrolled down through them, returning and refusing the kidnapping and abduction missions, and screening through the assassination missions to see if any of them were targeted at an Imperial officer. Many of them, lately, had been small-time individuals having trouble with local crime gangs and thug rings.

Max opened one job file from one of the regulars, an anonymous client from Alderaan. Max usually accepted jobs from them. The jobs were almost always targeted at the Empire, and they were things the Renegades could do to stay sharp and on their toes. Max didn't really know much about the client, nor did he care. All he cared about was that their credits were good and they always paid in full and on time. All he knew about the client was that they were some kind of noble from Alderaan. Max saved the job and stashed it in a file before turning his attention to the disaster area that was his desk. He had a lot of work to do.

As Max ran through the mess of papers on his desk, he came across one that was part of a personal project. It was a supply list from an Imperial base they'd infiltrated almost three years ago. Max had kept it because it had some listings that were unusual. It had several orders for various kinds of large-scale space station parts. What puzzled Max was that the base was a small installation that didn't even have its own fighter squadron, much less a space station. And oddly enough, none of the parts mentioned on the list were present at the station, even though the manifest said they'd taken delivery two weeks earlier. This was just one of many such instances, all of them alike: a supply list with large station parts, all of which nowhere to be found on the base. Max also found that all the parts had the same routing number, directing them all to the same place. Max couldn't figure out where these supplies were going or what was being done with them, and really all he could figure out was that the Imps were working on some kind of space station, and they were keeping things pretty tight under wraps. Though, with how much was going toward the project, it would have to be a pretty darn big station. Max shrugged as he filed the form with others like it.

Max's mind continued to wander as he cleaned up his desk. He couldn't help but think about the snippet of conversation he'd heard on the ship. Clearly his men were starting to worry about the death toll. Out of the thirty six men they'd started out with, only sixteen of them remained. They'd all been picked off down through the years, some by bounty hunters and others by missions gone bad, and the numbers were starting to dwindle further. Recently, they'd lost four men in as many months, and Max couldn't replace them. Max would consider anyone for recruitment, but they had to meet two criteria before he'd ever actually let them in. First, they had to be a former Stormtrooper; second, they had to be Fett-pure. Max simply didn't trust the fighting skills of natural-borns, who often went through a coddled and mothered childhood before even being able to train to fight. They'd taken in a few stray Stormtroopers who'd become disgusted with how the Empire did business, raising their numbers to twenty. The problem was with the Empire cloning fresh natural-born templates, the Fett-pure clones were being driven into the minority, meaning recruitment options were becoming slim. Whether he wanted to or not, the day was soon coming that Max would have to start accepting natural-borns.

Max finally filed the last of the reports only to face an unenviable task. The mess in the comms room meant the same thing the mess in his own room did. It meant the Renegades were getting sloppy, which mean a surprise inspection. He stood from his chair and left his quarters to head toward the barracks. The barracks building was a set of two merged domes, one dome housing the locker room and prep area, and the larger of the two containing the living area. The door to the locker room slid open and Max just hung and shook his head. He didn't mind his men unwinding after a job well done, but that didn't mean they were allowed to leave their armor and equipment all over the place when they geared down. Everyone was in for a good reprimand for this. He walked into the barracks to find everyone having a good time and enjoying themselves. Max's men were an extension of himself, literally and figuratively. He hated to punish them for something like this, but it had to be done to maintain their military discipline.

"Attenhut!" Max's called out order made the barracks come alive with activity. Everyone started scrambling back to their bunks and snapping to attention. Once everything settled down and Max put them at ease, each Renegade was standing at parade rest by his bunk. They all knew what Max's presence here meant. It meant they should have cleaned up before his surprise inspection. Max started walking down the row of bunks on his left, checking each one thoroughly as he went. He came to 88, Spanner, one of Sparks' engineers, and looked his bunk over. Everything was in good order except for one fairly major infraction. Attached to the bunk above his was a twenty five by thirty centimeter poster of a scantly clad woman.

Max stood up and looked at Spanner, pointing at the picture, "What's this?"

Spanner's eyes darted around as he thought of an answer, "My…daydreaming catalyst, sir."

Max looked him in the eye, "If it's not gone in two seconds…"

Spanner quickly snatched the poster from the bottom of the bunk, wadded it up, and held it out to Max.

Max accepted the ball of paper, shaking his head, "You know the rules. Report to maintenance for punishment detail."

"Yes, sir." Spanner snapped out a smart salute before turning and leaving the barracks. Max didn't mind his men talking to and thinking about members of the opposite sex, but he didn't want provocative images posted all over the walls of his barracks.

As Spanner left the barracks, Max turned around when he heard someone snickering. He located the offending party and pointed at him, "You."

The snickering soldier straightened up, "Yes, sir."

"You want to join him?"

"No, sir."

"Then shut your ration hole. You all know it's not funny when someone gets punished. Not on my command." He pointed at the floor, "Forty. Right now."

"Yes, sir." The trooper hollered as he dropped to the floor and proceeded to crank out forty push ups.

As the soldier finished up, Max continued going down the rows of bunks, making mention of infractions to cleanliness and discipline where he found them and meeting out the appropriate punishment. Fortunately, besides sending Spanner out on punishment detail, he only had to dish out a few dozen push ups every now and again.

He ended his inspection at the door before turning to address everyone, "All right, 'Gades, would someone care to explain to me the reason behind the mess in the locker room?" Silence was his response.

"I want it cleaned up in ten minutes and there's going to be an early lights out tonight for it. As you were."

Max left the barracks and appropriately disposed of Spanner's poster before walking back to the command center. He always hated dealing with his men like this. He wanted them to enjoy their time off, but they all also needed to maintain their military discipline. His men had been having these slacking moments every now and then for the last year now. Max was starting to think the cause of the problem was something they all suffered from. They had no cause to fight for. Money was merely a means of survival, and they had plenty of that. They had no cause ever since they split from the Empire. Without something, some purpose to fight and work toward, the usual discipline that marked their lives was beginning to slack.

Max dropped into his desk chair when his comm channel beeped. He hit the receive button and the screen rose from the desk with Conner's face on it.

Max sat back and leaned on one arm of his chair, "What's up, Con?"

"_Sorry to bother you, boss, but I've got a client on the buyer channel who says he wants to speak with you._"

Max raised an eyebrow, "Name?"

Conner shrugged, "_Didn't give one, but he won't talk to me. He insists on talking to you._"

Max frowned. The buyer channel was the encrypted frequency that the Renegades gave to their regular clients for ease of access. Normally they were rather forthcoming with information, not shady like this. It was cause for alarm.

Max nodded slowly, "Put him through." A moment later, Conner's face was replaced by a green-skinned Rodian with bulbous golden eyes and short ear stalks. There was a grey-skinned Twi'lek fondling him over his shoulder.

"_You are Max of the Renegades_?" His Basic didn't even have a Rodian accent, leading Max to believe he was a liaison of sorts.

Max nodded, "That's me. Who are you?"

"_I am Sharkor, emissary of his eminence, Jabba the Hutt. I have a special mercenary assignment that requires men of your particular skill level._"

Max's frown deepened, "Since when has the Hutt been willing to give lowly mercenaries like us work? Last I knew, he was more interested in collecting the Imperial bounties on us rather than helping us out."

Sharkor calmly gestured toward Max, "_If there has been any misunderstanding between you or your men and his grace, he asks that we all look past such trivial matters in light of new business opportunities. His excellency is most eager to put your skills to the test in an assignment that would be mutually beneficial for all._"

Max leaned forward and leaned his arms on his desk, "Now answer me this: How does 'his eminence' expect me to trust him when he calls me on a confidential comm frequency I never gave him? I never have trusted the Hutts, and I don't think they'll be giving me reason to any time soon."

Sharkor waved his hand defensively, "_The mighty Jabba asks that you look past any misconceptions or misunderstandings that may have caused us to be enemies in the past. He is eager for future business opportunities with the Renegades._"

Max shook his head, "Too bad the Renegades don't say the same thing. I'm sorry, but I'll have to pass on whatever your assignment is." He reached for the disconnect button.

Sharkor shooed his female entertainment away before getting Max's attention, "_His eminence is offering a reward of three million for the assignment._"

Max's hand stopped at hearing the amount. Three million? That would effectively quadruple their current assets. It was the largest payment they'd ever been offered. Max kept his face passive to not give away anything, but his brain was working in overdrive. If they took this mission for the Hutt, they wouldn't need any other missions for a long time. The 'Gades were a bunch of low maintenance guys and a total of four million could carry them for a very long time. It might even be the last mission of their careers as soldiers. The only reason he really had not to take the job was because he didn't trust the Hutts, but if this emissary was willing to deal, maybe he could make it a little more secure.

Max narrowed his eyes, "Four million. One in advance, three on completion." Max pointed at the screen, "And _your_ word that there's no funny business."

Sharkor nodded, "_You will have them all. I will send the advance payment to your account personally. The target is an Imperial construction facility on Abregado Rea. The voluminous Jabba asks that you reacquire a certain piece of data for him. It is a disk containing engineering data on the inner workings of his palace and personal transport craft, obviously information he would rather that no one but himself see. Get into the facility, reacquire this disk, and the full payment will be yours._"

Max nodded, "Send us the data, and we'll get your disk."

Sharkor pressed some buttons on his console, "_I'm sending all the appropriate data now. You are a shrewd negotiator, Max, and I look forward to further dealings with you. Until then, farewell._" Without another word, his image winked out, leaving Max's screen blank. Max sat for a moment thinking about the decision he'd just made hoping that he hadn't just done something stupid. He opened the files he'd just been sent and looked them over. He called up the base schematics he'd received on the holoprojector and just looked at them. The schematics were surprisingly detailed. For data this good, the Hutt's source must have been a man on the inside. For a crimelord, Max had to admit he was well informed.

Max hit his comm button and Conner reappeared on the screen again, "_Yeah, boss?_"

"Announce a briefing for tonight at 2100 for a mission tomorrow. We've got work to do."


	15. Chapter 15

Max looked out the forward veiwport as the urban world of Abregado Rea came into view. They were coming up on the Imperial facility after making a quick slingshot around one of the moons to hide their sensor profile. Max wasn't pulling any punches with this one. This job was worth too much in more ways than one to screw up in any way. He was fully intending to take every precaution he felt necessary, which was all of them.

Another reason for caution was that Max's gut was lighting up again. He started getting a bad feeling about the mission from the moment he accepted it, and it wasn't getting any better now that they were here. The last time Max had a feeling like this, the day saw the systematic eradication of the Jedi Order, so he'd learned never to question them when he got them. Max's gut feeling was telling him that it was a mistake to take that mission, but it was hard to pass up a four million credit price tag. Through the price tag, though, Max couldn't help but feel that he'd made a choice he was going to regret.

Flip brought the _Dawn_ over the base's coordinates and Ears started scanning the area. It felt to Max like a short eternity, but Ears finally came out with the sensor report.

He shook his head, "I can't tell much detail from this range, sir, but preliminary scan shows that security is…minimal."

Max looked back at him and raised an eyebrow, "Minimal?" He looked out the viewport again, "Hmm. Whatever they make here must not be very important." He nodded to Flip, "Hit the atmosphere. I want a closer look before we go in there."

Flip did as he was ordered and brought the _Dawn_ around for an atmospheric approach to the planet. After a quick reentry, Flip angled the ship around to the base coordinates again and brought them within sensor range. Ears went to work on getting a more detailed scan once they were close enough.

Ears shook his head again, "Same as before, sir. I've got a good look at the base, but security looks minimal. I'd say it's a go."

Max pensively stroked his chin as he thought. This was the moment of decision. Go or no go. After this, there would be no backing out.

Max nodded slowly, "Green light." He hit the PA button on the arm of the captain's chair, "All ground teams to barracks. I repeat, all ground teams to barracks. Prepare for drop." Max and flip both rose from their seats to head back to prep for the mission. Not a single mission went by that Max didn't participate in personally. The _Dawn_ would fly over the base with a minimal crew at high altitude and release the gunships for a hard drop, then land a safe distance away from the base. Meanwhile, everyone who could fight was going to drop into the base and get the job done. That was the plan, but Max couldn't shake the feeling that plans wouldn't matter before too long.

Max hurriedly slapped on his armor and grabbed his weapons, a heavily modified E-11 carbine, a pair of DH-23 pistols, a belt of concussion grenades, and a vibroknife with a twenty-five centimeter blade. He made his way to his gunship and counted heads. After accounting for everyone and getting Deuce's confirmation that he had everyone, he called up to the bridge and gave the go order. As he took his seat, he could feel the ship accelerate for the drop. They would drop the gunships at maximum speed to minimize their time over hostile AAA batteries. After several seconds of acceleration, Max felt a lurch through the gunship and then his stomach rise into his throat as they plummeted in freefall. Suddenly, the gunship jerked upward as the wings extended, acting as airbrakes against the fall. They began powered flight for only about a minute before Flip set the gunship down.

The side doors slid open, revealing that they had landed on the roof of one of the Imperial buildings. Max unbuckled his restraints and jumped out to make sure the right team got out at this stop. The other gunship rose into the air early to make the second drop. A five-man team was going to move in through another part of the base. The two groups would meet up after the target was secure and make their way out for extraction. Flip's gunship dusted off, leaving the 'Gades all on the roof of the building.

Max looked back at Ears, "Check the area."

The sensor tech knelt down and consulted his arm console. His backpack held some of the best sensor packages money could buy, giving him an effective range that encompassed the entire base.

He looked up at Max, "Looks like business as usual, sir. I've got a reading on all facility personnel and it looks like security is loose. We could probably get to the target without our alerting anyone."

Max frowned. It would be good to get in and out without alerting anyone, but an Imperial facility this big should at least have the token Stormtroopers guarding the halls. Max shrugged it off as the group made their way to a door into the building. It could be a civilian contracted facility. He didn't know, but he did know that his gut feeling was getting worse.

Hype worked his magic on the door and the Renegades moved inside, leading into a maintenance stairwell that went the entire height of the building. They began descending flights of stairs at a cautious pace, fully expecting enemy fire to come at any moment. They were all sadly disappointed, and rather worried, when they made it to the right floor without any resistance. Hype cracked the door and they filed into the floor, still with no guards to be found anywhere. Max was extremely worried now, nervously working his fingers on the grip of his rifle. The only signs of life in the facility were the occasional sensor contact of a civilian engineer or two and the sound of the PA system calling out announcements to the workers. Max was a hair's breadth from calling mission abort, but he wanted to know why the place was seemingly deserted.

After passing through several rooms and hallways, the Renegades reached a storage room undeterred, the room their target was supposedly held in. Hype cracked open the door and the 'Gades filed in, keeping their backs covered while doing so. They closed the door behind them and Deuce, Eyes, and two other men covered the door while everyone else searched. They started rifling through crates and equipment, looking for anything that might contain data.

Snipes finally piped up from across the room, "Sir, I found it!"

Max breathed a sigh of relief as he walked up to Snipes. The sniper was holding a small disk that couldn't have held more than a few gigs of data. Max frowned behind his helmet. It was too easy. Something was wrong here, and he wanted to know now.

Max waved Hype over and handed him the disk, "Check this thing out. Make sure it's the data we're looking for."

The slicer put the small disk into his arm console and pressed several buttons. After a moment, his head jerked back in a surprised motion, "Sir, you need to see this." He pressed a button and a hologram of Sharkor appeared on his arm.

"_Greetings once again, Max, although I do wish it was under better circumstances. I am sorry to inform you that the data you are seeking does not actually exist. Quite the contrary, in fact, once you activated this disk, your system sent a signal to the base's security, informing them of your exact location and locking down all exits. In but a mere moment's time, there will be an army of Imperial Stormtroopers coming to make sure you never leave this place alive. It is a pity we could not have worked together in a true business venture, but the ten million the Empire offered the mighty Jabba to help remove the thorn from their side was simply too good to pass up. And I am glad to say the same about the paltry four million we offered you. Farewell, Max, and…_" he snickered, "_Good luck._" The hologram winked out.

Max's eyes widened as he saw the message. A trap! And he fell right into it. He _knew_ he shouldn't have trusted a Hutt.

"We've got to get out of here. Breach that door with full grenade spread. They're waiting for us now." Deuce and Conner complied with the order and set a charge on the door. The device went off and forced the door open as both Deuce and Conner tossed three grenades into the hall each. A quick series of explosions and a lot of screaming later, the Renegades filed out of the room to find over a dozen Stormtrooper bodies outside the storage room. They deployed to hold the hallway as Max surveyed the scene. They had to get out of here as soon as possible.

He looked over at his XO, "Deuce, get a hold of the other team! Inform them that…" Max's comm buzzed with the team's channel and he opened it, "Max here."

The comm was a commotion of static and background gunfire, "_Sir, this is Sixer! We've come under heavy fire! Spanner's been taken down! We need immediate…_" There was a loud burst of static, then nothing.

Max raised his hand to his helmet, "Sixer? Sixer, do you copy? Sixer!" He looked at Ears, "Scan that area now. Look for their transponders. Now!"

Ears pressed several buttons on his arm console and studied it for a moment. He looked at Max and slowly shook his head. Max gritted his teeth and shouted a curse. Five men, one mission, no survivors. Jabba and the Empire were going to have the devil himself to pay for this.

Max unclenched his jaw to speak, "There's nothing we can do now. Let's move." As the Renegades all started to get out of town, Max's comm buzzed again, this time on Flip's frequency.

"Flip, sit rep."

"_Sir, you're not going to believe this. AAA batteries just opened up all over the place. They're laying down heavy flak in the…_" There was a brief burst of static, "_Dar'yaim tracinya! We just lost the other gunship! I've got to set this thing down, or we're next._"

Max nodded as he ran, "Try to get to our building, Flip. If you can't, just relay your position and we'll rendezvous."

"_I copy. I'll do what I can._"

Max closed his comm and cursed again. Five troopers, two pilots, and a gunship all gone within five minutes. He was right about one thing in that this mission may very well be the last one of their careers. They came to a larger and more open room to find the catwalks above them crawling with Stormtroopers. They immediately opened fire on the Renegades position, forcing them to use nothing but the hallway as cover.

Max tossed his rifle on the floor and pulled his blaster pistols before slapping a button on his arm console, "Jango Maneuver! Cover me!" His jetpack roared to life and he jumped into the air, hovering and jinking to avoid blaster fire. Max wove an evasive pattern through the air as he sighted and picked off Stormtroopers with his blasters. The Stormies all began to aim at him while the rest of the Renegades filed out into the room and provided cover fire in what the 'Gades had affectionately termed "the Jango Maneuver". Once the last of the Stormtroopers was taken care of, Max lowered himself to the floor before killing the thruster. He checked his fuel status and confirmed that it was low. They wouldn't be able to pull that stunt again. Reacquiring his rifle and checking up on his men, Max found that Eyes had taken a hit to the shoulder, but he could still move. Sparks, on the other hand, was hit harder and had to be assisted.

The Renegades made the best time they could with a wounded man down the halls, with Max in the lead. He looked back at his men to make sure they were keeping pace with him. Once he was satisfied, he looked forward at the intersection they were coming to. As the hallways crossed, another group of people came from the right branch. They weren't Stormtroopers. It was a group of three men and two women, all armed, wearing partial suits of varying types of armor over clothing that was trying to pass off as a uniform. Max brought the Renegades to a halt and everyone took aim on the intruders. The intruders, likewise, took aim on the Renegades.

Max kept the closest one in his sights, "Who are you?"

The one he was aiming at answered, "We were about to ask you that." He pointed at the 'Gades, "Lower your weapons."

Max stood his ground, "You first."

The man reached toward Max, "I said lower your…" He never finished the sentence. As soon as his hand touched Max's gun, Max stepped forward and elbow checked him across the jaw, putting him on the floor on his back.

Another man stepped forward, holding his rifle in the air defensively, "Whoa, whoa. Hold on, hold on. This isn't helping any of us." He kept his hands where Max could see them and his finger off the trigger as he spoke, "I'm Lt. Garyt Haran, Rebel SpecForce, Eta squad. Who are you?"

Max and the 'Gades kept him in their sights, "Name's Max. Renegades."

The lieutenant's eyes widened, "_The_ Renegades? The Mandalorian mercenaries?"

Max lowered his rifle and his shoulders sunk in annoyance, "We're _not_ Mandalorians. We just look an awful lot like them." He reached back and waved everyone's weapons down, evaluating no threat in these people. He motioned to the building, "What're you guys doing here?"

Lt. Haran waved his people's weapons down, as well, "We were here looking for a piece of nonexistent experimental equipment. If we get out of here alive, I need to tell my CO never to trust a Hutt again."

Max narrowed his eyes and canted his head forward, "Your source wouldn't happen to be Jabba the Hutt, would it?"

Haran furrowed his brow and nodded, "Yeah, that's right. How'd you know?"

Several blaster bolts coming down the hall reminded them of the situation. Max shook his head, "Tell you later. In case you forgot, we've got half the Imperial Army chasing us."

The Rebel nodded, "Agreed. You have transport? They blew ours up."

Max scoffed, "I hope so. Give me a sec." He keyed his comm to Flip, "Flip, you alive?"

There was a bit of static before his answer, "_Alive and scared out of my mind, sir. I've never seen AAA this thick before. We're on top of your building and holding our position._"

Max breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, something went right, "Glad to hear it. We're coming up as quickly as possible." He quickly evaluated the Rebel squad and noticed one of the women was assisting a man who was doubled over and holding his gut.

"We've got three wounded. Maybe more by the time we get there. Just hold your position."

"_We'll do what we can_."

Max took point and waved the group to follow him. He led the way to the stairwell they entered from to find the door locked down. A quick command and a couple of demolition charges later, the group was heading up the stairwell, leaving a hole that was bigger than the door originally was behind them. They headed up several flights before blaster fire zipped up the shaft in the middle. Max looked down to find several squads of Stormtroopers following them up. After returning a few pot shots, Max looked at Conner and pointed down. Conner looked down, gauged the distance, and set a pair of grenades for the appropriate timers before dropping his little present down to the Stormies. The resulting explosion took out most of the pursuing troopers and mangled the stairs enough to keep them from following that way.

Most of the way up, Max fell back to Hype in the group, "Can you get into the system while we're on the move?"

Hype showed Max his arm console, with screens on it indicating that he was in, "What do you think I've been doing? This place is loaded."

Max shook his head, "Pay attention to the fight for five seconds, Hype. Can you get me an Imperial transponder code? We're going to need it if we want to get out of here through the AAA."

Hype consulted his console, "I think I've got a few of those somewhere." He tinkered around for a moment before nodding, "Yep. I could mask a whole bloomin' squadron for you if you wanted."

Max nodded in satisfaction, "We just need one. Keep it handy. And bloody pay attention!"

The Renegades and Rebels came out the stairwell door to find Flip and his only remaining pilot, Dodge, hunkered down behind a ceiling exhaust vent exchanging fire with a group of Stormtroopers. The gunship's heavy repeating autoturrets that had long ago replaced the ball turrets were opening up on anything that came within ten meters of it. With the combined fire from the gunship and the Renegades, the remaining Stormtroopers were finished off quickly. After dealing with the threat, the group piled into the gunship.

Flip put in the Imp transponder code and looked back at Max, "We're probably only going to have about a minute before they see through the new code."

Max nodded, "That should be enough time to get clear and get back to the _Dawn_. Just head us for orbit for now." Max keyed his comm again as Flip brought the gunship into the air, "_Dawn_, this is Max. Do you copy?"

There was a burst of static on the line from the interference, "Dawn_ here. What's going on over there, boss? The place just lit up with gunfire like tibanna gas was going out of style. What's happening?_"

Max shook his head, "Later. Just get to orbit as quickly as possible. What's your twenty?"

"_We're twenty clicks from the base and are getting ready to…Hold on a sec._" The line was quiet for a moment before the trooper's voice came back panicked, "_Bombers! Half click out and closing fast! Evasive maneuvers!_"

Max held a hand up to his helmet, "_Dawn_? _Dawn_, get out of there. Get out of there now!" He leaned out the open door and pulled his electrobinoculars from his belt. He zoomed in on the where he knew the _Dawn_ was last and his gut tightened. There was a flight of TIE Bombers headed for the _Dawn_ as she slowly rose into the air. They unleashed a full spread of proton torpedoes each before peeling off for another run.

They wouldn't need to make another run. The torpedoes slammed into the _Dawn_'s hull, playing a series of explosions up the length of the back half of the ship, most of them hitting the engines. Those explosions were followed by more as the damage to the unshielded hull was compounded by internal damage. A blinding flash and a low rumble of thunder in the distance heralded a blast that broke the _Dawn_ apart amidships, still exploding as she slowly fell back to the ground. The bombers came back around for another pass, slamming more torpedoes into the already crippled Gozanti cruiser. Another bright flash came as the larger pieces were reduced to smaller sizes. The bombers continued to strafe the destroyed vessel, making absolutely certain she would never fly again.

Max lowered his binoculars and almost staggered back into the gunship. Deuce steadied him as he sunk into one of the seats. No one could have survived that. Ten men, one gunship, and the _Golden Dawn_, all gone in one fell stroke. Max pried his helmet off as the passenger compartment darkened with the side doors closing. He set it aside and leaned his elbows on his knees while rubbing his forehead with his palms. So much gone. So many men dead. All because of one stupid decision.

Deuce noticed Max's mood and temporarily took over for him. He looked at the Rebel lieutenant, "I hope you've got a ship somewhere out there, because ours is out of the question now."

Lt. Haran nodded somberly, "Yeah, we've got a small transport in orbit. She won't get us far, but she'll get us away from here. Where do you think we can go?"

"We can head to our base for now, on Felucia. It's the closest safe port I can think of."

The Rebel nodded, "Last place the Empire would look, I'd bet. Sounds good for now."

Deuce nodded and sat down next to Max, "We're going back to the base, sir. Was there any other place you could think of?"

Max just stared at the floor for a long moment before answering with a slow shake of his head, "Just get us home, Deuce. Just get us home."

The Rebel's transport turned out to be an old modified Corellian YG-4210 freighter, barely big enough for the gunship to dock, much less make hyperspace. As soon as they were secured to the ship, they jumped into hyperspace. They made several short jumps to hide their trajectory before setting course for Felucia. During the trip, Max was unusually solitary. He kept himself away from everyone else, just sitting on a bench in the galley, staring at the ceiling. One mistake. One mistake had cost the lives of ten of his men and a whole mess of resources. The Renegades had just been set back by years of work and the casualties couldn't be replaced. All because of one stupid decision. The 'Gades had every right in the book to shoot Max in the head where he sat for such a foul error in judgment.

He wouldn't complain much if they did.

One of the Rebel commandoes, a woman, walked into the galley. She saw Max just sitting there and shook her head before walking over and quietly sitting down next to him. Max just sat there, not even acknowledging her presence.

She broke the lingering silence, "I'm sorry. I know you lost a lot back there." Her gaze fell to the floor, "We lost some people, too."

Max blinked slowly and shook his head, still staring at the ceiling, "It's not just that I lost some men. I can't replace them. We've been cut in half and there's no way I can get those men back."

She nodded and put a hand on his shoulder, "I understand. It's hard for us to replace people, too."

Max shook his head again and leaned forward, sliding her hand off, "No, I don't think you do. This is something that goes deeper than that." He rubbed his face for a moment before finally looking at her, emotionlessly cataloguing her shoulder-length brown hair and matching eyes, "What's your name?"

"Corporal Jen Hantonar, Rebel SpecForce, Eta squad."

He nodded lightly, "Max." He hung his head and held his forehead in his hands, "Too bad we couldn't have met under better circumstances."

Jens nodded, "So it's just 'Max'?"

Max nodded, "If you know anything about me, you'd know I wasn't exactly born with a last name." He regarded her out of the corner of his eye, "What's your squad specialty?"

"Sniper and cryptanalyst."

Max snickered, "You'd get along good with Hype and Snipes."

Jens looked at him quizzically, "Who and who?"

Max took a deep breath before speaking, "Hype's my chief crypt. Best bloody slicer I've seen. Snipes is lead of my best sniper team." He scoffed, "What am I saying? They're my _only_ sniper team now." Max breathed a deep sigh before standing up, "I'm sorry. I wish I could talk, but I'm not exactly in the mood right now. If you'll excuse me." As he turned to leave the galley, he could feel her gaze following him, her sympathy permeating the air around her. Max huffed. He didn't want somebody feeling sorry for him; he wanted his men and his ship back, but those were just the things he couldn't get. He went to the cockpit to find Flip and one of the Rebels at the controls.

Flip noticed Max's arrival and gave him a somber nod, "We're less than half an hour out, sir."

Max nodded apathetically, "Good work, Flip." He leaned on Flip's seat, just staring out the front of the cockpit. As he looked at the blue and white swirls of the hyperspace tunnel in front of them, Max could almost see the faces of the men who never made it off of Abregado Rea. He could almost see Sixer, with that mustache and beard that he was always tending in their off hours. He saw Spanner's face, that little moon-shaped scar on his chin serving as his identifying mark. Max closed his eyes and hung his head. How could he have let this happen? How could he have let money get in the way of his better judgment? Max didn't know the answer to the questions, but he did know that it would be the last time he'd let his brain get in the way of his gut feeling again.

The stars snapped from lines to points in the viewport as they fell out of hyperspace with the jungle world of Felucia beneath them. Once they brought the ship down into the atmosphere and set course for the base, Flip leaned over to look up at his CO and spoke in Mando'a to keep the conversation private.

"(Do you think we can trust these guys with our base location, boss?)"

Max nodded, "(I've done some homework on these Rebels, Flip. They hate the Empire as much as we do. We're united by a common enemy if nothing else.)"

Flip nodded and reverted back to Basic, "I suppose you're right on that count." He faced forward again, "Still, I prefer having a monopoly on knowledge of our home."

Max nodded again, "Like I said, we have nothing to…" He trailed off when he saw black smoke on the horizon. It couldn't be. They closed distance to the base and found that it was true. The Renegade's base, their home, had been completely destroyed. The barracks, the armory, the command center, the supply sheds, all of it was a burning and smoking pile of rubble and debris. Max fell silent as he fell back into a seat behind him. How could that be? No one knew about their base unless…

Unless they checked an Old Republic outpost registry. Max sighed and heel-palmed his forehead. He should have known better than to take up residence in a former Republic facility. The Empire still had access to those records. He might as well have put a neon billboard satellite out in orbit saying "We're here! Come get us!"

They set the ship down and everyone piled out to start looking through the debris. Max walked into what was left of the command center. All that remained were some broken down walls and a lot of blackened debris. He pushed over some rubble to find that his desk had survived relatively intact. He pressed the buttons with no response, but the monitor was still active. Max picked it up from the desk and blanched when he read what was on it. It was an open link into the 'Gades credit accounts. They'd been wiped clean, every decicred drained from every one of them. As of whenever this took place, the Renegades were officially penniless. Max angrily tossed the monitor away and rubbed his aching forehead with one hand. Gone. All of it, gone. They had nothing accept their weapons and the armor on their backs. Their ship was gone, their home gone, all their vehicles gone, everything. Max rubbed his eyes as his hand subconsciously moved to the grip of his blaster pistol. Now would have been a very good time to end it all, right here and right now. He opened his eyes as he moved his hand away. No, that was the coward's way out. Whatever the consequences, Max was going to face them boldly.

Conner got Max's attention from behind him, "Sir? I've completed the forensics scan if you're interested."

Max nodded grimly. No sense in prolonging the inevitable. He looked back at Conner, "What do you have?"

Conner consulted his datapad, "Residual energy signatures and burned vegetation around the area say it was orbital bombardment. The base shield was never meant to handle that. It would have cracked with the first salvo. Then it would have been target practice after that."

Max nodded as he stood up, "Thank you, Conner. You're dismissed." Conner nodded silently as he turned and walked away. Max went to where his quarters would have been and started shoveling through the debris. He pushed aside pieces of junk and rubble, looking for anything they might be able to salvage, when something caught his eye. He shoved some debris aside to find his charm of memory. He still wore and used the charm of moment everywhere he went, and he had kept the other half on his nightstand. Max's face hardened as he picked up the charm and brushed it off. There was a large crack in the sea rock across the base of the charm now, irreparably marring its former beauty. Max shook his head as he pushed the button. The imager was intact, displaying images back from the Clone Wars until the present. As the holos played, memories stormed the gates of Max's mind. He remembered it all. All the loss of the war, all the loss of a lifetime. He remembered 28 at the Geonosis Arena, 45 at the battle afterward, Sensors on the _Prosecutor_, 48 at the Eriadu incident, 96 on Manaan. A parade of names and designator numbers filled Max's mind as the loss of his comrades, his brothers, hit him full force. So much death. Why was he still alive? Why were his friends and brothers dead, but he was still alive? Max shut his eyes against tears that wanted to flow as the feeling of so much loss landed on his shoulders. So much lost. So much gone. All because of _one stupid decision_!

"I'm sorry."

Max's head whirled around at hearing the familiar female voice to find Jen Hantonar standing nearby. She was holding a sniper rifle and had that sympathetic look on her face.

She looked around before looking back at Max, "I'm sorry. You've lost a lot."

Max looked back at her and scowled, "Thanks, but I don't want your sympathy."

Jen took a few steps closer, "Look, Max, I understand that you lost a lot of men back on…"

"No, you _don't_ understand." Max cut her off as he stood and turned to her, "I didn't just lose men on that planet, I lost _brothers_. I'd served with some of those men for over twenty years. Bloody good soldiers, the lot of them. We trained together, grew up together…" He stepped forward and got in Jen's face, "We were frelling _born_ together! It's impossible to just let go of a lifetime of hardship and trial with your pod brother, Ms. Hantonar." He turned away and let out an enraged huff in a vain attempt to cool his temper.

"I know what it's like to lose someone, too. Alderaan was my home. My family was on the planet when it went up."

Max just huffed at her, "What?"

Jen shook her head, "Haven't you heard? The Empire destroyed Alderaan. The Emperor's new toy, the Death Star, blew it up like it was a pebble. Eta squad was making a retaliatory strike for that."

Max scowled back at her, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that found its way into his voice, "Well, please, forgive me if I'm not feeling too sympathetic right now."

Jen just stood there, staring at Max, before speaking, "I don't know why I didn't see the resemblance." She walked around to Max's front and faced him, "You're a clone, aren't you. I should've seen it before. Your face and accent are a carbon copy of my CO."

Max just snapped at her in return, "Yes, I'm a frelling clone! We all are. 'An army of one man, but the right man for the job' as we used to say. What does it matter to you?" He brushed past her and started walking toward the ship.

Jen ran up and stood in front of Max again, "I want to help you, Max." With a sweep of her arm, she noted the destruction around them, "And you'd be boldfaced lying to me if you said you didn't need it." She stopped and took a calming breath before continuing, "Maybe you could join up with us. Join the Alliance. You obviously need somewhere to go now, and we need soldiers like you. Could you at least think about it? Please."

Max worked his jaw around for a moment as he thought. He didn't know what to do now. He was working entirely off of instincts, and those were fried from the stress. He looked at the charm of memory in his hand, thinking about all the men who had died along the way. To come this far only to quit now would be dishonoring their memories.

Max breathed a deep sigh, "Let me talk to my men. We've also got some things to do before we leave here."

Jen nodded, "Take your time, but not too long. The Empire's going to be back."

The rest of that afternoon was spent with the Renegades collecting whatever they could salvage from what was left of their home. That evening, Max collected the surviving Renegades around a large pyre of wood. He called them to attention as he used a sparking wire to light it. The funeral pyre was in memory of all those who never left Abregado Rea.

Max stood before his men, silhouetted by the fire behind him, "Tonight we remember those who couldn't continue with us today. I wish we could have given those men a proper burial, but as long as we continue to honor their memories, they'll never be gone, just marching far away. We've all come a long way, guys. We can't quit now. Not while those who have gone on before us are watching and cheering us on. We need to keep going and see to it the Empire pays for what they did today." They all bowed their heads in a moment of silence.

After the moment, Max looked up at his men, "At ease. Now we've got some decision making to do. The Rebels have offered us a chance to join them in their fight against the Empire. I want to know what you guys think of the idea."

To Max's surprise, no one offered any opinions. Deuce spoke up, "You're call, as always, sir."

Max shook his head vehemently, "Not this time. I've made too many stupid decisions. As of now, I'm relinquishing command of the Renegades and suggest that we put all decisions to a group vote."

Deuce shook his head, "No voting, sir. You order, we follow."

Max hung his head for a moment before looking at them, "Guys, I just got half of us killed. I lost one of our gunships. I lost the _Dawn_. I got out home destroyed out from under our noses…"

Deuce broke formation and walked up to stand in front of Max, "And in light of those circumstances, no one could have gotten us out of it in better condition than you. Had it been anyone else, we'd all be dead now. You saved all our bacon back there, boss, and that shows you need to keep going as LT."

Max shook his head, "You don't know what you're talking about, Deuce. I can't keep command of the Renegades." He tried to turn to walk away, but was stopped by Deuce grabbing his shoulder and yanking him around to face him again.

Deuce looked Max in the eye, "Are you going to turn your back on what you made?" Deuce let the question hang for a moment before continuing, "That's right, Max. _You_ made us. It wasn't the Kaminoans. It wasn't Jango Fett. It wasn't the Republic. _You_ made us. _You_ made Gamma platoon what it was back in the day. _You_ made the Renegades what we are today. There's no better LT in all the galaxy than you, and there's not a man here who wouldn't back me on that. Yes, we've had our rough times, some rougher than others, but who was the one who always pulled us through it? _You_! Who pulled us through the _Prosecutor_? You! Who pulled us through this Force-forsaken stinkhole when we were deployed here? You! You made us what we are today, and I'll be drawn and quartered if you don't stick with it." Deuce called attention and the Renegades snapped to a crisp salute, "Renegades at your command, sir. Awaiting your orders."

Max tried to speak, but choked on his own voice. Even after killing off half of their numbers, the 'Gades were still tossing their lots in with him. Max had never heard of loyalty like this before. In light of his men's fanatical loyalty to their leader, Max made a resolution in his own mind. No more mistakes. No more bad decisions. What the gut feeling says goes, from now on.

He returned their salute, "I couldn't have asked for a finer group of soldiers in all the galaxy. Thank you." He took a deep breath to compose himself, "Now, I say we join with the Rebels. We've got to put a hurt on the Empire for what they did today, and they can help us do that. Let's make them regret the day they thought they could mess with the Renegades." With a psyched-up "Hoorah!" from his men, the Renegades all turned and headed toward the ship. It was time to hurt the Empire.


	16. Chapter 16

After loading what they could salvage into the Rebel's ship, the Renegades put their backs to Felucia for the final time. Max took a quick inventory while en route to the Rebel base. They'd manage to preserve about half of their clothing, a couple of stray rifles, and some varying pieces of damaged equipment they could cannibalize for parts. There was no ammo or explosives anywhere in the pile. There was nothing left of the armory but a still-warm crater. It wasn't much, and if his sources were correct, these Rebels weren't all that well supplied. Still, it was better than forging it on their own with no money, no ship, and no base.

The Rebels brought them to the temperate planet of Obredaan. It wasn't exactly an Imperial held world, nor was it exactly friendly to the Rebel cause. The Rebel pilot brought them into the atmosphere and took a winding course to avoid any signs of civilization.

As they flew over a dense forest, the pilot pointed forward, "There. That's it."

Max leaned over the other seat and narrowed his eyes. All he could see was woods.

"Where? I don't see anything."

The pilot nodded as he began to throttle back, "That's the whole point." He slowed them down over a large crevice that divided a small clearing before kicking in the repulsors and gently lowering the ship down in. They descended for about three hundred meters into the ground before he flipped on the floodlights and throttled up slightly, guiding them into a wide but low natural cavern.

"Welcome to the Pit." Max looked over to see Jen standing behind the pilot seat, "Its official name is Obredaan Base, but everyone knows it's just a big hole in the ground." She gestured to the ship, "This is the biggest ship that can get in and out safely. Other than this, it's nothing but fighters."

Max listened as the pilot killed the engines and pulled back on the yoke, raising them through a circular hole in the rock that was too well sculpted to be natural. The assumption turned out to be correct when the hole led to a large hanger that had been built into the caverns. The pilot maneuvered to the only landing pad big enough to accommodate the freighter and set it down. Max grabbed his gear, consisting of his armor, weapons, and some clothing, and stepped down the boarding ramp after Jen with the rest of his men in tow. He stopped three steps from the ramp and looked around. The hanger was at least fifty meters high, leaving about two hundred and fifty meters of rock between them and the surface. Max nodded to himself. Now _this_ would have been the place to set up shop and call home, only problem being the _Dawn_ couldn't have fit. There was a squadron of older fighters that Max recognized as BTL-S3 Y-Wing fighters, and about two squadrons of a fighter he'd never seen before, a long thin fuselage with four engines and two pairs of S-foils resting together, likely unfolding into an "X" formation for combat.

Jen motioned for Max to follow her and the Renegades fell into step, "We found these caverns about four years ago. Just had to do a little digging and the place was practically begging for a base to be set up in it. Those blinking devices on the ceiling are sensor jammers. This far down, it makes the place look like an ore deposit on sensors." Max looked up at what she was referring to and noticed several blinking devices at varying intervals on the hanger ceiling. That would definitely keep anyone from looking for them. Max nodded to himself again. He should have gotten some tips from the Rebels when looking for a base for the 'Gades. They followed Jen through a door and into a series of winding hallways. She led them into what appeared to be a combination briefing room/locker room. Jen tossed her pack onto the floor against a set of lockers and looked at the room's only occupant, whose back was to them.

She sat down on one of the room benches, "Complete wash up, Stence. It was a set up. There was no prototype shield system; just a message from that rancor turd, Sharkor, saying that we were done for. We got out, but lost Mich and Sato on the way. Durke took a shot, but he's on the heal in the infirmary now."

As she spoke to the man, Stence, Max noticed something about him. He was wearing a familiar looking orange pauldron on his left shoulder and a matching _kama_ from his waist.

Stence turned around, looking at a datapad, "Well, glad to hear most of you got out alright. I'll need to speak with every…" He looked up and froze.

Jen gestured toward the Renegades, "Oh. Stence, this is…"

"Max?" Curiosity crawled across his face, "What in the name of the Force are you doing here?"

Max snorted, "I was about to ask you the same thing, Stec." The two old comrades closed distance and locked hands in a soldier's handshake. Stec had grown his hair out to about shoulder length, but had the same Fett-pure face, plus a little five o'clock shadow.

Stec just smiled and shook his head, "Last time I saw you and your bunch, you were walking away from Order 66 on Utupau. What've you been up to all these years?"

Max shrugged, "Little bit of this, little bit of that. Mercenary work, mostly. What're you doing here?"

Stec's smile faded as he put the datapad under his arm, "Well, I thought about what you said when you and Cody had that shouting match. After a while, I finally decided you were right. Order 66 and everything about it was wrong. Me and five other troopers all jumped ship about a year after Utupau."

Max furrowed his brow, "Why only five?"

"That's all that survived our escape."

Max grimaced and nodded. Apparently Stec's desertion had been a little more hostile than his own.

"Excuse me?" Jen piped up sheepishly, "It's apparent that you two know each other, but…" She looked at Stec, "Why does he keep calling you 'Stec'?"

He turned to face her, "That was my nickname in the Republic Army, when I was an ARC. I took the name Stencer Thornn to cover my ID. It was that or you could call me…" He trailed off as he thought for a moment. He looked at Max, "I never thought that would happen. After all these years, I forgot my own designator number."

Max chuckled at the comment. An idea came to his mind and he looked back at Stec.

"Those other troopers you mentioned, they wouldn't happen to still be around, would they?"

Stec scoffed, "Yeah, they're all still kicking. Some of the best men I've served with. Not quite ARCs, but it only took a little time."

Max smiled, "I was hoping you'd say that." He stepped aside to show the rest of the 'Gades behind him, "As you can see, I've brought the rest of the crew with me. Problem is we've just taken a big hit. I was wondering if your troopers wouldn't mind working under the moniker of 'Renegade'."

Stec's eyes widened, "You guys are the Renegades? I thought they were a bunch of Mandalorians."

Max hung his head and rubbed his eyes. He looked up and spoke to no one in particular, "That's it! Next time I desert the Empire, I'm keeping my armor _white_!" He let out an annoyed sigh and looked at Stec, "No, the Renegades are not Mandalorians. Just a bunch of no account clones trying to make a living."

"Uh, Stence?" Jen stood up and walked up to Stec, "If we can save the reunion for later, we need to get these guys situated for now."

Stec nodded to her, "Suppose you're right. Set them up with my guys." He looked at Max, "You and your men follow the corporal. She'll get you a place to lay your head. We can talk later."

Max nodded and looked at Jen, "Lead the way." Max and the 'Gades followed Jen out of the room and down another series of winding hallways until Jen stopped at a particular door. She hit the button next to it and it opened up to five troopers inside, all with carbon copy identical faces. Max and the Renegades all filed into their new quarters.

Max set his gear down and walked up to one of the troopers, "Looks like we're barracks-buddies. What do they call you?"

The trooper set the rifle he was cleaning down and shook Max's hand, "CT-03/9754, or Crater, if you don't bother with designators."

Max nodded, "Let me guess. Demolitions."

"Got it, first try." Crater motioned to the others as he spoke, "This is Buster, heavy weapons. Don't ask how he got the name. That's Singe, on the bunk, sniper. Over there is Tussle and Scuff, two of the best assault boys this side of the planet."

Max nodded, "Max. Renegade LT." He looked around at the other clone troopers before stealing a quick glance back at his men and looking back at Crater, "Got a question for you."

Crater wasn't paying attention, just staring at Max with wide eyes, "You're the Renegades?"

Max nodded, "Yes, and we're _not_ Mandalorians. Now back to my question. If you think we're so special, how'd you guys like to join us?" He squatted down next to the trooper's bunk, settling in for a long explanation, "Here's the deal. I was thinking we can get a fairly effective fighting force going here if we group all the clones into their own platoon. If you think about it, we've already trained together, so we wouldn't need to take much time with that. That, and me and my boys just took a big hit. We lost a lot of guys and, to be honest, I'm just not comfortable with natural-born fighting skills. So what do you say?"

The trooper just shrugged, "I'm cool with it, as long as it flies with Stec." He scoffed, "It'd be a whole lot better than going by 'the clone guys' all the time."

Max smiled and nodded, "Thanks, bro. I'll pass it by Stec and see what he thinks. In the meantime, welcome to the Renegades." Max stood and went back to his men, looking them over as they settled in to their new home. He made a mental catalogue of everyone who was left. There was Deuce, the stalwart sergeant with an allergy to dying. Snipes was still among the living, best sniper this side of the galactic plane. Eyes was Snipes' second man, completing the scout/sniper team. Ears was sitting on his bunk checking his sensor pack. Hype had dropped his things on a bunk and made a direct line for the nearest computer terminal, probably seeing how far he could slice into the system without any alarms sounding. Flip and Dodge had set up their bunks apart from everyone else, staying away from the "groundpounders". Conner had chosen a bunk, geared down, and was now heartily shooting the breeze with Crater. Max shook his head. Two demo experts, one insane as the day is long, and the other named after a hole in the ground. A hazardous combination, to be sure. Splint wasn't there on account of patching Sparks up in the infirmary. Just the ten of them left, eleven if Max counted himself, and seventeen if Stec and his guys decided to join. These men were the best of what remained. Either that, or they were just pretty darn lucky.

As Max looked the 'Gades over, he saw the back half of a set of dark red armor pass the door. He poked his head out to see the same back half of red armor turn a corner down the hall. More than a little bit curious, Max left the barracks and followed the hallway, making turns where he saw the fleeting glimpses of the elusive suit of armor. He followed the suit into a smaller barracks, a room with only four bunks and a set of lockers at the other end. Max poked his head in to find four soldiers all gearing down, probably having just come back from a mission. There was the one soldier with the dark red armor he'd been chasing, another with white and grey, one with a pattern of orange and yellow streaks that looked like flames, and one suit of armor that rang a bell in Max's mind. He could barely remember, but he could have sworn that that particular pattern of white and green looked just like the Delta Squad XO, Fixer.

The soldier in the grey turned around and noticed Max, "Hey, who're you?" He narrowed his eyes as he took a couple steps closer, "I recognize that scar…Gamma Lead?"

Max chuckled, "Now this is getting spooky. First, I run into Stec, and now you guys. What're the odds of running into Delta Squad twice in one lifetime?"

Delta Boss walked up to Max and shook his hand, "Not very slim at all if we ran into you. We heard that you and the Gammas cut fence after Order 66, but I never would've expected you to show up in a Rebel base. How've you been, 19?"

Max shook his head, "It's just 'Max' these days. I haven't been 19 in the Force knows how long. As for how I've been doing depends on how much you know about a mercenary group called 'the Renegades'."

Boss nodded, "Now that's why that armor looked so familiar. Everyone always said you guys were Mandalorians, but the armor design was all wrong. My guess was defected clone troopers, but I had no idea it was you guys."

Max shrugged, "We're just a bunch of simple men trying to make our way in the universe." He leaned against the doorframe, "So what brought you guys to the Rebels? I figured you for following Imperial orders until your dying day."

Boss smirked and nodded lightly, "Orders, yes. Order 66, no. Once we found out our next target was a Jedi, we all unanimously agreed to cut out. We also took the opportunity to disobey direct orders and go collect an MIA squad mate." He jerked his thumb back at Sev in the dark red armor.

Max leaned around 38 to look at Sev, "MIA, huh?"

The commando shrugged sheepishly, "Yeah, got stampeded by a bunch of droids in Kachirho on Kashyyyk. Messed me up good before a Wookie war party showed up. Since the Wookies don't have much advanced medical tech, they had to float me in a kolto tank for couple days. I'm thankful to be alive, but had to leave a little bit of me behind." He called Max's attention to his left arm, which Max only now realized was prosthetic from the shoulder down.

Max winced, "Sorry."

Sev shrugged, causing his arm to click, "Actually, I kinda like it. I can lock the joint articulation to hold my rifle steady as a rock. My only real complaint is that it itches sometimes."

Stec appeared in the doorway next to Max, breathing heavily like he'd just been running, "Boss, Max. Sorry, but reunions are over. I need you and your men to gear up for a heavy fire mission and assemble in the hanger for transport on the _Shooting Star_. Briefing en route."

Boss' eyes widened, "You don't even want the after-action report?"

Stec shook his head, "No time. We're on emergency mobilization here."

Max furrowed his brow, "Why the big hurry?"

"The worst news you could ever hear. The Empire's found Yavin base."


	17. Chapter 17

Max and his men sat in the passenger bay of the YG-4210 freighter, the _Shooting Star_, that they'd just been brought to Obredaan in only a couple hours ago. Sparks had to stay behind because of his injuries, but every other member of the Renegades was present and accounted for. They took up the majority of the passenger area, but filling in the rest of the space were Stec's men and Delta Squad. They'd been in hyperspace for almost an hour without so much as a peep from Stec regarding that briefing he'd promised.

Finally making good on what he said, Stec stood up and walked to the holoprojector in the middle of the bay, "All right, guys. I understand that you're wondering why we've been brought out here in such a hurry, so I'm going to tell you. As of 1830 hours today, it has been confirmed that the Empire knows where Yavin base is. As of 1832 hours, it has also been confirmed that they are sending their new toy, the Death Star, to make an example of Yavin base to the rest of the Rebellion. Based on the Death Star's schematics, General Dodanna and a few other high officers have scrounged together a plan to actually destroy the Death Star. Something about a thermal exhaust port; I didn't pay attention to that part. They're gathering the necessary resources and personnel at Yavin base to pull it off. We're on our way to Yavin to bolster the base garrison so they can pull some extra pilots from other duties. Sorry it's not the harrowing combat everyone was hoping for, but it's just as necessary, all the same. Right now, we're two hours out of the Vergesso system. We'll be making a waypoint jump there. Everyone just sit tight until we get there."

On the way out, Stec walked over to Max's seat and knelt down, "Max, I've been thinking about your idea, about a clone platoon, and I'm all for it. I'd be operational command, you'd be field command, keep 'Renegades' for a name. What do you think?"

Max mulled the idea over for a moment. It had been a long time since he'd been under anyone's command. He'd have to get used to taking orders again, but it was nothing he was unfamiliar with.

He nodded, "Sounds good by me."

Stec nodded and stood without another word to leave the compartment. Max rose to his feet and headed toward the cockpit. As he walked, he thought to himself. There was a lot to take in from the last couple of days' worth of activity. A fixed mission gone sour, losing half of his men, throwing in their lot with the Rebels, it was a lot for one brain to soak up. Max didn't know how to catalogue all that had happened recently, but he did know one thing. He knew he owed Jen an apology. Back on Felucia, she'd just been trying to offer a sympathetic ear and Max had treated her like she'd been insulting his parentage to his face. Which would have been a really neat trick since, considering he was a clone, he didn't have any parentage. She didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

Max walked into the cockpit to find Lt. Haran in the pilot seat and the corporal in question leaning on the back of the copilot seat. She looked back at him, but simply catalogued his presence as she went back to looking out the viewport. Max walked up behind Haran and crossed his arms over his chest, watching the hyperspace tunnel swirl around them. He stole a glance over at Jen, who was still looking forward with a stern look on her face. Max breathed a quiet sigh. It was now or never.

"Corporal." He broke the lingering silence and got her attention. He jerked his head back toward the corridor, "Could I have a word?" He disguised his intentions with the use of her rank, making it sound more official.

She looked at him and shrugged, "Sure." Max led the way and Jen followed him into the corridor. Once they were out of earshot, Max turned around and addressed her.

He cleared his throat before speaking, "Listen, uh, about before, on Felucia. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You were just trying to offer a sympathetic ear, and I about bit your head off." He broke her gaze and looked at the bulkhead, "I just…I just wasn't myself at that moment. I'd just lost a lot of men. Good soldiers, the lot of them, too. I practically grew up with those men. We'd served together for a long time. Losing them was like losing a little bit of myself." He looked her in the eye again, "You were just trying to help, and I appreciate that."

Jen just looked at him for a long moment with her arms crossed, a pensive gaze in her eyes as she thought about what Max had just said. Finally, she nodded and broke his gaze, "Apology accepted, and…" she looked at him again, "I understand. I can't begin to understand the kind of camaraderie you had with those men, but I do know what it's like to lose someone you're close to." She looked away at the bulkhead and breathed a deep sigh before continuing, "My parents…my sisters…my family was on Alderaan. Mom and dad never really approved of my joining the Alliance. They said if we have to fight the Empire, we should do it on the grounds of shrewd politics and diplomacy." She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes, "Our last words in this life were…spoken in anger. I never had a chance to reconcile with them." She hung her head and rubbed her eyes with one hand as unbidden tears began to flow, "I'm sorry, it's just…"

Max put a hand on her shoulder, "Hey, it's all right. I don't know what was said when you spoke to them last, but in spite of it, I'm sure your parents were proud of you. They would've been proud that their daughter was willing to take a stand for what she believes in."

Jen wiped her eyes and looked at Max, "Thank you. It's nice to hear someone say that."

A wry grin tickled Max's mouth, "Just be thankful you had parents in the first place."

She giggled lightly at his comment, lightening her mood a little, then glanced back at the cockpit briefly, "Well, I need to get back to, uh…you know…what I was doing."

Max nodded as she turned around and headed back into the cockpit. He turned and walked back toward his seat, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He didn't know what to call it, but there was something he liked about Jen. He saw strength in her, something that a lot of natural-borns didn't have without facing some trials during their lives. Max admired that strength…strictly as a soldier, of course.

Max slid into his seat. He could tell Deuce had seen his conversation with Jen, and in spite of his wearing a helmet, Max could see the nexu-that-ate-the-jubba-bird grin on his face.

Max checked the ammo on both his pistols as he spoke, "So what're you all smiley about?"

Deuce looked over at him, "Who said I was smiling?"

Max holstered his pistols and held up fingers to mark his points, "The way your voice sounds on the comm, the way you're sitting back like that, the way your hands are fidgeting on your lap, and they way you're tapping your right foot."

Deuce's head jerked back in a startled motion, "Am I that easy to read?"

Max just nodded, "Like an open book, Deuce. Like a bloody open book."

The rest of the trip went on with the soldiers in the passenger bay trying to keep themselves occupied. That meant several incidents of Max yanking Hype out of the ship's systems. Max didn't like waiting, but he knew this trip was necessary in this case. This was a high-stakes and extremely high-risk situation. If Gen. Dodanna's plan failed, it meant none of them would live to see the next day. They all had a right to be nervous, even scared, but they all knew what had to be done.

They arrived in the Vergesso system on time and without incident. Max and Boss were up in the cockpit with Jen and Lt. Haran.

Stec turned around to his console, "Alright, Garyt, I'm sending you the next leg of the jump."

Haran nodded, "Got it. Stand by for…" he trailed off and looked at the sensors, "Um, Stence? We have a problem."

Stec's shoulders slumped as he turned his seat toward the front of the cockpit, "What is it? The hyperdrive on the fritz again?"

Haran shook his head, "We could only be so lucky. An Imperial Star Destroyer just dropped out of hyperspace right along our exit vector."

"What the…?" Stec scrambled out of his seat and leaned over the sensor board. He stiffened when he saw it.

"By the Force. Engage stealth systems now."

Haran nodded, "Way ahead of you." After pressing some buttons on various panels, he sat back and looked up at Stec, "So now what? They're blocking our exit."

Stec looked out the view port at the Star Destroyer that was now in front of them, "We can just recalculate for another jump, but I'm more concerned with why that SD is here in the first place. This system is in the middle of nowhere and of fairly little strategic value. So why would the Empire send an SD here at all?"

Boss shrugged, "Why don't we slice into their system and find out?"

Haran shook his head, "No can do. The _Star_'s got enough sensor stealth systems to hide a small moon, but with how close we'd have to be to slice in, it wouldn't take them long to find us."

Max looked out the cockpit window and at the Star Destroyer. As he looked at it, an idea came to mind.

He looked back at the others, "We could attack them."

Lt. Haran looked at Max with wide eyes and a slack jaw, "Please tell me you didn't just say that. A frontal assault on an _Imperial_ class Star Destroyer in a ship with barely a token array of guns? You'd have to be crazy, stupid, and suicidal to even consider it."

Jen settled Haran down with a wave of her hand, "Hold on, lieutenant. Hear the man out."

Max shook his head, "I didn't mean attack the ship from the outside. I meant from the inside." He leaned against the bulkhead and crossed his arms as he explained, "Back in my Republic days, when me and my men were stationed on Felucia, we often had to fight off these nasty bugger critters called acklays, a big six-legged bug with a mouthful of teeth and a bad attitude to match. The hardest part about killing them was getting through their exoskeletons. But in that time, I discovered that they don't really enjoy it when you put thermal detonators _under_ their hard shells." He gestured to the Star Destroyer, "We get a bomb underneath that thing's hard shell, stand back, and watch the body parts fly." He pointed his thumb at his chest, "And by a bomb, I mean me and my men."

Boss nodded and looked at Stec and Haran, "He's got a point. The Renegades can hold the hanger and provide a diversion while the Deltas make a quick slicer run through one of the ship's computer cores. Then we wire the reactor to go up and get out before the fireworks start."

Haran cocked his head quizzically, "I'm not so sure. Do you have any idea of how many Stormtroopers there are on an ISD?"

Jen looked pensive for a moment before speaking up, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't ISD's have detention bays?"

Stec nodded, "Interrogation cells, yeah."

"So we hit the cells and bust out any Rebel prisoners they have. Get them to an armory and you've got instant reinforcements."

Haran muttered to himself while he thought, "Attack inside…detention cells…nuke the reactor…" He looked up at Stec, "This might be possible."

Stec smiled, "Of course, it is." He looked at Max, "And he's just daft enough to pull it off, too." He turned his seat toward his console and started working furiously, "You guys head back and explain the situation to your men. The Deltas make the slice and do the demo wiring, the Renegades hold the hanger and hit the detention bay. When you're ready, we'll make our move. Jen, you take the turret and cover them when we get in."

Max turned to follow Boss out of the cockpit. He was stopped in the corridor by a hand on his shoulder. He looked and saw Jen standing there.

"Be careful, Max. Who knows how many Stormtroopers there are in there."

Max just nodded to her, "Don't you worry about me. If we all do our jobs, we'll all live to tell about it after."

Jen just looked at Max for a moment before turning and ascending the ladder to the turret. Max stood there for a second, trying to figure out why she'd singled him out like that before turning and heading back to the rest of the troopers. As he went through the corridor, he thought to himself about this impromptu mission. There were several factors that could cause problems. Could they completely avoid detection on the approach? Would the shields be down? Would there be enough room to land in the hanger? There was a lot that could go wrong with this operation.

Max was slightly startled at the scene when he arrived in the passenger bay. The Deltas were all decked out in full armor and weapons, an imposing sight to say the least. All of the Renegades, including their recent additions, were sitting in their seats, full armor, and patiently waiting for the drop Boss had just briefed them on. Max shook his head. Everyone was right. They _did_ look like a bunch of Mandalorians. From his position, Max pointed out Snipes, Dodge, Hype, and Ears for the team to go with him to the detention bay. All four of them were fully cross-trained and experienced in assault tactics and he would very likely need their skills. Deuce would need to stay in the hanger to direct the defensive action. After taking the time to inform each soldier on his team of the plan, Max sat down and slipped his helmet on. No sooner had he secured it did he hear Stec's voice over the comm.

"_Max? Come back if we have a good connection._"

Max nodded, "I hear you, lima charlie, Stec."

"_Good. We're five minutes out from landing. Just sit tight. I'll update you as we go._"

He nodded again, "Roger that." That was definitely one thing Max had missed in their mercenary years. Having an advisor calling instructions in his ear always came in handy when things didn't go according to plan.

Max took a moment to look over some of the data about the SD on his arm console. When he called it up, he started to snicker and shake his head. The ISD's registry data showed the name as the _Prosecutor_, a recommissioned version of the _Acclamator_ class ship he and the Gammas had rescued over twenty five years ago. Back then, he had fought desperately to keep the ship from being destroyed. Now he was going to be destroying it.

A short while later, Stec came on the comm again, "_Two minutes out_."

Max looked at his men, "Get tactical, Renegades!" In compliance with his order, all the Renegades checked and rechecked their armor and ammo in preparation for the drop.

The ship began to rock with what Max recognized as laser blasts as Stec came on again, "_Thirty seconds out. Stand by for drop._" The 'Gades and Deltas all stood and assembled by the two doors on either side of the compartment.

Max felt a rumble through the deck at the same time Stec called down the comm, "_We're down! Hit it, boys!_"

Max slapped the door button and looked back at his men, "You heard the man, Renegades! Let's get to it!" He stormed down the ramp with weapon ready and came out into a mess of gunfire. The hanger was very large with a glossy black floor dotted with piles of crates, ribbed walls, and a high ceiling with catwalks and TIE Fighter racks across it. The guards were moving in on the ship when soldiers started pouring out. The Stormtroopers were taken by surprise and started a hasty retreat when Max and his men opened fire on them. Several of the first ranks fell to the combined fire and the rest fell back to the cover of some crates. The Renegades had no cover to speak of, but they didn't need it. The _Star_'s dorsal turret rotated and opened up on the Stormtroopers' position, sending the crates and several troopers flying. A pair of heavy repeating blaster turrets extending from hidden panels on either side of the _Star_' ventral section added to the fight. Max looked around and stabbed two fingers at another group of Stormtroopers that was firing from the front of the hanger. The forward ranks of Renegades dropped to one knee while the second rank stood behind them, creating an effective wall of guns. They opened up a hailstorm of blaster fire that took down several Stormtroopers and sent the rest scurrying for the nearest exit.

Max looked around and assessed the situation. They'd secured the hanger, but that was very temporary. Once the word got out that they were here, they'd have every Stormie on the ship breathing down their necks.

Max looked at Deuce and motioned to the hanger, "You know what to do. Dig in here and fortify your position as much as possible before reinforcements show up." He opened his unit wide channel, "Jailbreak Team, come to my position and get ready to move." As his team assembled, Max checked his arm console and looked over the data Stec had given him on the detention bay's location. There was a high security lift between here and there, naturally, and the bay itself probably had enough Stormtroopers to take a small city. This wasn't going to be easy.

Once his team was assembled, Max waved them toward the door that led where they were going. They opened it up and secured the hallway beyond. It was devoid of life, probably due to the mess in the hanger. The team moved down the hallway and ducked into a smaller one. They moved down the hall and came to a landing with several elevators and Stormtroopers guarding them. Max dropped to one knee and pegged a three-shot burst into one trooper's face while the others fired at the rest. Once the guards were dispatched, Hype went to work on one of the lifts. Before Hype could get anywhere on the controls, another lift door opened with a pair of startled officers in it. One officer drew his weapon and was appropriately shot in the chest for it. Max grabbed the other officer by his collar and kicked his legs out as he threw him to the floor.

Max kept his rifle trained on the officer's face while pointing to the lift controls, "Open it. Now!" The officer tried to resist until Max shot the floor next to his head. The officer blanched and carefully stood to type in the code to work the lift.

Once the lift door was open, Max nodded to the officer, "We appreciate your help." He nodded to Ears, who promptly belted the officer across the back of the neck. After tossing the officer's unconscious form into the hallway, Max's team piled into the lift and brought it down to the detention area. When they arrived on the right level, rather than open the door, Max set a breach charge in the middle and had everyone stand back.

A quick glance out the recently made hole in the door revealed exactly what Max was expecting. There were six Stormtroopers at various posts around the central area and several more patrolling each hallway. Max tossed a grenade into the room and hopped out through the hole after it went off. Three of the Stormies in the center were removed, but there were still the other three, and the ones in the halls. Max ducked and rolled to avoid a shot from one trooper before taking aim on him while coming to his feet and firing. Max and Dodge both planted a blaster bolt in the second trooper's chest while Ears and Hype both dispatched the third. Snipes put a precision shot down the hall into the head of a fourth trooper and everyone took up defensive positions around the center. Hype immediately went to work on the console. Max dropped to a crouch in a position where he had a good view of one hallway and started returning the incoming fire from the Stormtrooper guard. Snipes and Dodge both covered the other hallways and started returning fire while Ears knelt down near Hype and started scanning the area.

Max looked over his shoulder at Hype between shots, "Got anything yet?"

Hype kept moving from one console to the next, "System's too fidgety. I think they're trying to counter slice me. Give me a second here." He typed a series of commands into one panel and looked at another, "I think I have something here. Let me see…Pirate, pirate, pirate…Ah! Here. I found the Rebel prisoners. Clear those hallways while I crack the locks"

Max returned his attention to the hallway and the trooper he was shooting at. He ducked away from a bolt before sighting down his rifle and firing a shot that clipped the trooper at the neck. Once all the hallways had been cleared for the moment, a series of cells opened up and the prisoners started filing out curiously.

Max started waving them over, "This way! Over here! This is a jailbreak. We're getting you out of here." The prisoners didn't ask questions as they assembled around Max and his team. Max did a quick head count. They'd pulled twenty three prisoners out of the cells, a number of humans, several Bothans, two Ithorians, and a Wookie.

He turned around to Hype, "Where's the armory?"

Hype was still bent over consoles, rapidly making adjustments on several panels at the same time and sounded somewhat agitated, "Still working, one second, please…" He input another command code and clapped his hands together in celebration, "Yes! They tried to lock me out, but they messed with the wrong slicer." He pointed as he spoke, "Armory is down that hall and to the left."

Max nodded and motioned for everyone to follow him, "This way. You guys need guns before we can get out of here." The group of people followed him to the armory, which was lightly guarded and nothing Max and Dodge couldn't handle by themselves. After the prisoners all cycled through the armory, they all made their way back to the detention center. Hype had removed the lockdown from the other lifts and everyone piled in to head up. Once they were on the right level, they assembled outside the lifts and, stepping over an unconscious officer, started making their way back to the hanger.

When they moved into the main hallway, they intercepted a group of Stormtroopers en route to the detention bay. Dodge snatched a grenade from his belt and tossed it toward them before diving back away from the blast. Max pulled the trooper to his feet as he shot at the survivors. Once the Stormtroopers were taken care of, the prison break group double-timed it to the hanger.

They came into the hanger and Max assessed the situation. The whole hanger was now alive with blaster fire from the Stormtroopers, the Renegades, and the _Star_'s guns. Deuce was hollering out orders and trying to make sure they didn't get in over their heads while Splint was now busy seeing to three wounded men.

Max pointed at the fray and looked back at everyone, "Get in there, pick a hole, and fill it. We need to hold them until the commandoes are done." He followed his own order and ran to the line. He took up position between two of his men and switched his rifle to full auto. He laid down a sweeping arc of fire that took out several Stormtroopers and made several more dive for cover. Conner tossed a grenade over their cover and several more Stormies fell. The casualties were simply replaced from one of the doors behind their line. More Stormtroopers moved into the hanger and took up firing positions. Max cursed under his breath and took a grenade from his own belt that he lobbed at the troopers. It didn't do much, just landing in front of the Stormtroopers' cover and blasting some crates away. He switched his rifle to semi-auto to save ammo. He could tell they were going to need it.

Max's comm popped and he knelt down and pressed his helmet closer to his ear to hear over the din, "_This is Delta Squad. We've got the data and the charges are set. We're on our way back now. ETA, five minutes._"

Stec came over the line, "_Copy that. Max, you heard them. Five minutes. You've got to hold them for five minutes. Make it happen. Stec out_."

"Will do." Max nodded as he reloaded and stood back up, "Heavy weapons to the line. Now!" His order was followed as Deuce and Buster came to the front carrying their respective heavy weapons. Deuce was wielding a modified R-21 heavy repeater. He'd added an extra cooling unit to allow extra long bursts of full auto fire. Buster was packing a non-tripod E-Web heavy repeating cannon with backpack generator, the kind of weapon you take out tanks with. They took their positions and laid down a sweep of heavy suppressive fire that dropped the first ranks of Stormtroopers like a bad habit. The second ranks took casualties and dove for cover. A grenade flew from the Stormies position and Max ducked as it went off just shy of their cover. He looked up and cursed the doors that were puking out more Stormtrooper reinforcements. These were going to be the longest five minutes of their lives.

It was time for a bold move. Max looked around the hanger for something, _anything_ they could use to stem this never ending tide of white-armored soldiers. He looked above them and noticed a TIE Fighter on the gantries above the Imperials. Max raised an eyebrow. A TIE fighter likely with a tank full of volatile fuel.

He leaned around one of the troopers and looked at Conner, "Con, I need a detpack."

Conner pulled the explosive from a thigh pouch and tossed it to Max, "It's my last one. Make it count."

Max caught the device and slapped his jetpack button, "Cover me!" He jumped into the air and rose steadily toward the TIE, with blaster fire zipping by him from every direction. He rose above the fighter and throttled his thruster back to idle to save fuel but stay ready. After landing on top of the TIE, Max punched in a ten second timer on the detpack and tossed it up to the brackets holding the fighter in place. The explosive magnetized itself to the metal brackets and started counting. Max didn't wait around for the fireworks and jumped from the TIE into the open air above the Renegades. He let himself fall for about half a second before throttling up his jetpack and catching his fall. He set down and spun around to face the Stormtrooper line, counting silently to himself. The detpack went off on time, blasting one bracket completely off and ripping the other up. The TIE Fighter leaned downward before falling, the damaged bracket unable to support its weight. At the same time, Max threw his last grenade over the Imperials' line and landed it under the TIE as it fell. The grenade exploded when the TIE landed on it, causing the desired effect. The fighter exploded in a bright cloud of thick fire. The Renegades all dropped behind their cover as the shockwave of heat and debris washed over them. When Max came up, one of the doors had been blocked, burning debris was all over the place, and not a single Stormtrooper had survived.

Max smiled and stood up, "That's for Abregado Rae!" He knelt back down as more Stormies started filing out of the one door that was still intact. The two sides began the fire/return fire game again as Max noticed a door on the other side of the hanger open and three commandoes come running out at full tilt. The fourth backpedaled his way out the door, laying down suppressive fire behind them. He chucked a grenade through the door as it closed, then turned and bolted for the ship.

Stec's voice came on the line, "_Max, we're out of here! Pull back to the ship! I repeat, pull back to the ship!_"

Max nodded and looked around at everyone, "I want a dozen volunteers to hold the line with me. The rest of you, get the wounded to the ship." Max and fifteen other people covered the escape while the rest assisted the wounded into the ship. Once they were clear, Max and his cover team ran to the ship as fast as they could. Max made sure the last of his men were in and had barely ascended the ramp himself before they lifted from the deck. The ramp closed as they rotated into position and took off out of the hanger like a borgle bat out of a cave. Some of the turrets tried to get a shot in on them, but with the sensor stealth systems running at full, they couldn't target accurately if they wanted to.

Max clambered through the ship to the cockpit to find Stec and Haran, the lieutenant pushing on the throttle levers like they could go faster than they were.

Stec turned and looked at Haran, "Get us as far away from this thing as you can before it goes up. I don't think they can target their tractor beam accurately with the jammers, but I don't want to wait around to find out." The lieutenant wasted no time in following the order and jumped to hyperspace as soon as they were clear.

Stec sank down in his chair and let out a relieved sigh, "Thank the Force that's over with." He looked at Max and gave a sloppy salute, "Well done, lieutenant. I'm going to get you and your men a round of medals and some long R&R once all this blows over."

Max nodded in appreciation and turned around to check on his men in the passenger bay. He glanced over everyone to get a general sit rep. Most everyone had managed to get out of that mess unscathed, but heavily fatigued. Flip and Snipes had both taken a hit and were resting on some of the gurneys in the back. Crater had taken a mild graze, but was none the worse for wear.

Max's attention was called over to Splint, who was kneeling over someone on the floor next to the bulkhead. Max walked over to find him treating Scuff. He looked at the trooper's chestplate lying on the floor next to him. There was a series of blaster holes playing up from the lower left to the upper right. Max leaned over Splint's shoulder to see that the medic had patched all the wounds, but the damage had been done. Scuff's breathing was shallow and wheezing and his heart rate was becoming erratic.

Max nodded toward him, "What happened?"

Splint kept working without looking up, "Tried to do a one-man hole-plug against a squad of Stormies. They worked him over pretty solidly."

Scuff sputtered through shallow breaths, "Had to…be done…sir."

Max nodded, "Well, I'm glad someone did it. Now you hush up, trooper. Save your strength."

Scuff turned his head to look at Max, "Sir…Let the Imps know…It was worth every second." With a final word said, Scuff's eyes rolled back and his head fell to the floor. Splint's monitors sounded a monotone alert as the heart monitor went flat.

"No, no, no! Stay with me, soldier. Stay with me!" Splint dropped his tools and put his hands on Scuff's chest, pumping downward rhythmically. He alternated heart massages and a defibrillator for nearly three minutes until the alert tone ceased in silent resignation. Max closed his eyes and looked away. Another one marching far away, a new one at that. All the more reason to put an end to the Empire for good.

Splint wasn't so concealing of his anger at losing another trooper. He shouted a curse as he ripped his helmet off and threw it across the compartment, nearly hitting Scorch. He hung his head and rubbed his forehead with two fingers.

"I'm sorry, sir. He was too far gone by the time I got to him. I did the best I could."

Max put a hand on Splint's shoulder, "You did your job. He did his. Don't beat yourself up for it. We'll give him a proper burial when we get back." Max took a moment to lay Scuff's rifle across his chest and salute a fallen brother before turning away. He turned and walked across the bay and took a seat next to Deuce before pulling his helmet off.

Deuce just looked toward Scuff and nodded subtly, "Shame. I really didn't know him that well."

"None of us did, Deuce." Max just shrugged and sighed, "It's war. This happens. You'd think we, of all people, would be used to it by now, but it still hurts to lose a comrade." He laid his head back against the bulkhead, "In fact, I think it gets harder every time."

Deuce nodded, "You got that right."

Stec came back into the passenger bay and looked around, "Where's Fixer? I want to shake his hand."

The comment brought Max's head up, "Why? What'd he do?"

Stec held up a small data disk, "Not only did he get the _Prosecutor_'s current orders, but he also snagged a good chunk of the local Imperial military network. Force deployment, weapon research, ship assignments, a whole bunch of really good stuff. He needs a bucket of medals for that."

Max laid his head back again as Stec found Delta Squad and regaled Fixer with congratulations. As Max closed his eyes to get some rest, he thought about what had happened that day. A brother had been lost, but a victory had been gained. They'd bloodied the Empire's nose and lived to brag about it. They all had good reason to be a little proud. And what the devil was up with Jen's behavior today? She seemed particularly observant of Max and what he was doing most of the time. That was just another question in this new life with the Rebels. Max smiled to himself. It had been a good day.

It had been a good life. Max and his men had been through the thick of it. Since their creation on Kamino, the Gammas had been bred for war. War had been their life. Their lives had had meaning and purpose back when they served the Republic. But the Republic was dead now, stabbed in the back by the insidious Empire that replaced it. Since their years as mercenaries, unfulfilling as they were, the Renegades had found a new purpose in throwing in their lot with these Rebels. They had a cause to fight for, and a cause they were willing to die for. The cause of freedom was always a cause willing to die for. Max opened his eyes and stood from his seat as they dropped out of hyperspace near Yavin IV. Even with the Death Star breathing down their necks, for the first time in a long while, the future looked bright and hopeful for a Republic Soldier.


End file.
